


A Certain SCP

by Orakle



Category: SCP Foundation, Toaru Majutsu no Index | A Certain Magical Index
Genre: Blood and Gore, Death, Drugs, F/M, Gun Violence, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-02-15 16:01:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 252,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18672940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orakle/pseuds/Orakle
Summary: "Kamijou Touma is it? Welcome to the SCP Foundation. You will now be referred to as SCP-0000" Touma finds himself in another world where anomalies are contained in order to keep the life of the world population safe and normal. Stuck in a frightening secret society where he is only an anomaly to keep in jail, what will happen to him? I repost everything since I accidentally deleted it. Also on FF.net.





	1. SCP-0000

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and thank you for reading this fanfic. This the first time I do a cross-over. If you do not know a lot about what is SCP (I'll think fewer people will know about check the main site: www.scp-wiki.net I hope you enjoy. :)  
> This is only the SCP report of Touma. The story begins in the next chapter.

Please enter your login and password:

Login: Dr. Lerouge

Password : ********************

Please wait... Confirmed

Please press your hand on the scanner...

DNA prints matching. Identity confirmed

Welcome, Dr. Lerouge. You do not have the credentials for the full access of this file, some parts of the report have been censored. Remember that trying to obtain or share them with the non-authorized personnel will lead to termination.

Item#: SCP-0000

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-0000 must be contained in a Class C suite with minimal security measures. A bathroom is close off from the rest of the chamber for the subject's privacy. Five (5) armed guards are required at the entrance. Only Level 4/0000 or Level 4 or above personnel are to enter the containment chamber. Subject must be fed at the following hours: 9 AM, 12 AM and 8 PM with food fit for human consumption. Class-D personnel is to execute this task under armed supervision. SCP-0000 must be given enough food to sustain a growing adolescent. Ever since it's retrieval SCP-0000 has first been housed at Site 06-3 but was moved after a Chaos Insurgency raid (See Incident n°3), he is now housed at [REDACTED].  
SCP-0000 has been granted reasonable request :  
-Books (Mostly light novel and manga type)  
-Drawing material  
-Candies  
-A television  
-A walk outside of its containment chamber. (See protocol Kappa-8 for further precisions)

Request that SCP-0000 has not been granted :  
-Contact with the outside world namely the city of [REDACTED] (See Addendum-A)  
-A mobile phone  
-A computer  
-A video-game platform

While harming SCPs is punishable if not approved by certain personnel, the right hand of the subject must not be cut at all cost. Doing so will result in immediate termination, should the offender still be alive. See Incident 2 for further precisions.

Description :

SCP-0000 has the appearance of a young Japanese male in its late teen. The subject has shared his name: T████ K██████ . Subject measures one hundred and sixty eight (168) cm and posses spiky and black hair Subject does not show any visible physical anomaly. Subject displays all basic human need such as food, water, sleep etc. SCP-0000 is healthy and does not seem to suffer any illness, however, subject posses many scars on his body, the subject seems to have suffered knife and gunshot injuries as well as inexplicable wound, probably caused by an anomaly. Subject's body also implies a lot of surgery due to the presence of barely visible surgical cuts. Subject posses an athletic body, subject's musculature, as well as its scars, implies great experience and effectiveness in street-fight.

SCP-0000 shows a 'hero' type personality, subject's will try to help all people even at the risk of his health or life without any apparent reason. While suicide watch protocols are not to be observed, a certain care concerning the subject's mental health and attitude in combat must be maintained. The subject also shows great resilience both physical and mental. SCP-0000 has, thus far, been cooperative and amiable towards Foundation members, despite his disagreement over his containment. According to psychological results, the subject shows a lot of respect for human virtues such as honour, promises and has high regard for human life even toward criminals or anomalies. Tests also reveal that subject is stubborn and 'punch before asking questions'. The subject also reveals laziness concerning most educational materials but has shown to have an above average intelligence.

Subject's anomalous capacities are of a great interest to the Foundation. The subject is seemingly able to erase any anomalous capacities or anomaly by touching it with its right hand. Subject itself has backed this claim. Subject also seems to have an anomalous resilience toward anomalous attacks.  
Subject has been able to erase all the following, but not limited to: SCP-106 corrosive substance, SCP-035 corrosive substance, SCP-[REDACTED] for a full list see Experiment Log 0000-1.

Subject has also shown to be able to resist memetic effects by touching his head with his right hand. Subject has resisted the following memetic objects: SCP-012, SCP-055 (see Incident n°4), SCP-_-J (Though multiple personnels have reported not being affected by said SCP) for a full list see Experiment Log 0000-2.

Subject has reported his power to be the crystallization of the hopes, dreams, and fears of Thaumaturgical users. At this point, the Foundation is not sure of the truthfulness of this claim. Though the subject's honest nature does point toward it.

Addendum-A: [REDACTED]

Incident n°1. ██-08-20██ :  
MTF Nu-7 "Hammer Down" agents [REDACTED] saving the platoon.

Incident n°2. ██-20-20██  
Researcher K███ cut the subject's right hand despite being forbidden to do so, resulting in [REDACTED]. Researcher died from severe blood loss. The anomaly let itself be restrained. The anomaly showed emotional distress over this incident, as well as remorse.

Incident n°3. ██-05-20██.

Site 06-3 was raided by agents of the Chaos Insurgency, the attack was repelled by the on-site guards and the intervention of MTF Tau-9 "Mountain Dogs". It appeared that SCP-0000 was their main target. How they came across the information is still unknown. The investigation is still going on.

Incident n°4. ██-16-20██

SCP-0000 entered SCP-055 containment chamber resulting in [REDACTED]. SCP-0000 has made no comment on this incident.

Incident n°5. ██-17-20██

SCP-0000 entered SCP-343's containment chamber resulting in [REDACTED]. SCP-343 was visibly shaken. SCP-0000 also showed emotional distress.

Interviews are not available at this moment.

Protocol Kappa-8

[REDACTED]

~Message from the Administrator~

Hello.  
It has been brought to my attention that SCP-0000 is capable of erasing any anomalies with his right hand. While testing shows that this is likely, the anomaly doesn't know itself the full extent of his power. And neither do we. Many researchers working on 0000 have asked for the permission to use 0000 to destroy many SCPs. Please remember that we Secure. Contain. Protect. Destruction is the last solution we employ. We do not really know what happens after 0000 'erase' an anomaly and it could very well come to bite us in the ass. As such any cross testing must be reviewed by both me and the O-5 Council. Failure to do so will result in termination. ANY cross-testing with 682 is forbidden. We don't want the big lizard to adapt from being erased from existence itself. It will probably come back crawling from another dimension. We have research to do on some. Furthermore, we still have some morals. We are cold its true, but not cruel. Most of the anomalies deserve to live. Hidden away from most of society, maybe, but it is for Humanity's own good and theirs. As such we will not destroy all anomalies with 0000.  
I am grateful for your comprehension.  
The Administrator  
Secure. Contain. Protect.


	2. The Foundation

Ken was bored. To develop he was utterly bored and would have killed for some action. He was an ex Anti Skill officer who retired due to a leg wound. As such he was employed here in a sordid little … He didn't even know what it was for fuck's sake. His employers just told him to sit tight here and let enter the people who worked here. He suspected it was some kind of lab, but it was probably shoddy and underfunded. The security measures spoke for themselves: A lone old guard and two flimsy doors. He wasn't stopping a member of Judgement or even Skill-Out with this. He sighed

"Goddamn, I just want something to happen."

It seemed his wish was answered when a teen came bursting from the door, a lightning bolt whistling next to him. The guard could only stare slack-jawed as the teen quickly rammed in the second door and effectively opening it.

"Sorry for that, I'll pay later!" Shouted the teen

"STAY HERE BAKA!" cried a more girly but enraged voice behind him.

The boy ducked, dodging the lightning spear passing where he was no less than a second ago. He quickly began to sprint down the stairs. Ken looked at the lightning-throwing esper. She was a girl, probably in middle school with brown hair.

"You can't be... here..."

He trailed off as he remarked her school uniform. It was Tokiwadai's! It was the Railgun, the #2 Level 5! Oh no he wasn't going to mess with an Oujo, especially if she was the famous Railgun.

"What? You were saying something old man?" she spoke menacingly.

Oh no, he was definitely not going to involve himself in this, he rather liked life. As she sprinted down the stairs following her prey he started to muse. He didn't really care if the egg heads downstairs fired him because of that. Retirement was probably better than this crappy job anyway. He quietly went back to reading a car magazine. The sounds of shout, lightning and explosions downstairs suddenly calmed. He looked up from his magazine before shrugging. Let's let the 'brains' handle it.

**A CERTAIN SCP.**

Fukou da, translatable to 'rotten luck' or 'what a bad luck' were the two words that defined Kamijou Touma's existence. He had been chased for the past hour by a very angry Biribiri. It was some day after saving Othinus, the whole world and himself in the process that he met her at his apartment. She started screaming about him being an irresponsible idiot. Her rant lasted for a good five minutes. He really didn't know what set her off, was it Biribiri or was it 'I didn't want to worry you'? Anyway, she started throwing bolts of electricity at him, all the while shrieking about his stupidity. And he had run. And she had run after him. He sprinted, with her on this tail, dodging, ducking, jumping, zig-zagging all the way. He had finally been cornered in a dead end. He started to sweat heavily, he was in no condition to fight Biribiri or to run that long for that matter. Behind him, the electric hellion approached him slowly, a dark aura emanating from her.

"Tou~ma"

She singsonged darkly. Touma started to look for any way to escape. He suddenly to notice a door which seemed open. He didn't think twice and rocketed toward it. The door gave away and he continued his mad sprint downstairs. Barely stopping to excuse to the flabbergasted security guard.

He ducked, dodging the bolt before descending the flight of stairs without thinking. He arrived into a lab where less than a dozen scientists were working. A big machine rested at the middle, slowly humming. It was emblazoned with a blue P and L in a circle. Every scientist paused, staring at him. They quickly got out of their state. The facility, they thought, was supposed to be so discreet, so normal, so boring it should have been left alone. It only got worse when the Railgun suddenly appeared in the room throwing electric bolts at the young boy, not realizing where she was. Touma sprinted toward the other side of the room trying to reach the door at the end of it.

However, as he was in the middle of the room, next to the humming machine it was at this moment that everything went to hell. It was at this fateful moment that Mikoto Misaka, threw a bolt at Touma, but in her angry state, she barely took time to aim. The bolt hit the machine, as the scientists were already outside of the room. The machine's humming grew intense like a choir in a second. Blue, green and red arcs of energy appeared, crackling, in a matter of second; So enthralled in their objectives, the two espers didn't notice it until it was too late. A vortex suddenly surrounded the machine, catching Touma in it. And suddenly he disappeared, leaving nothing behind him. Misaka quickly skidded to a halt a cry of anguish piercing the sudden silence of the room.

"TOOOOOOOUUUUMAAAAAAAA!"

She fell to her knees as the machine sputtered, spitting little clouds of smoke. It was her fault. It was her fault that they were here. It was her fault that he disappeared. Tears started to appear at the corner of her eyes. She once again could do nothing and it was her fault.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Corporal Wanda Carter was bored. She looked at her squad mates, they were all crammed in the small truck. They were ten men in her squad. She knew that ten other trucks were carrying other men as well as the material required for the operation. Mobile Task Force Nu-7 'Hammer Down' was ready to roll. The lieutenant got up and coughed loudly to get everyone's attention

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen. We will soon arrive at the site where the anomaly was reported. I'll do a quick briefing of the anomaly and the rule of engagement. SCP-3980-JP is a mass of flesh measuring approximatively three meters tall and one wide. It is hostile and cannot be reasoned with. It is very tough and can pack a mean punch with his tentacles. Despite its size, it's also pretty quick. HighComm said that enough sedatives can get it knocked out." He paused gesturing at their guns. "Your guns are specially made to shoot sleeping darts on automatic fire. We'll need it, it takes at least a good hundred to make it sleep. We will advance by sections of twenty, we will be four groups spread in the forest. Stay close and watch everything."

The lieutenant finished the briefing sitting down and taking a gulp of hot coffee. It was cold here in Japan and her uniform didn't help. To her relief, they soon stopped and disembarked. They were in a clearing, up to a hundred men and women running, organizing, bustling around could be seen. She looked up as a helicopter descended, roaring, from the sky. As she checked her modified P90, she did not notice the recruit, a certain Alan Walker walk right next to her.

"Hey, corporal! Y'think we'll be alright?"

She nearly jumped at the sound glaring at the offender. The young man quickly apologized. She sighed.

"Of course, we will be alright." She gave him a look "You're nervous, first op?"

The recruit quickly nodded, embarrassed. She smiled a bit. He remembered her of her, during her first mission. It had been a quick and anti-climatic affair.

"Don't worry, we're nearly a hundred against one big blob of meat. It will probably be quick nothing really dangerous."

"Yeah, you're probably right." He smiled nervously.

A loud whistle was heard from across the clearing as a man dressed in a bulletproof business suit suit walked on to of a truck. The captain right next to him.

"Alright, hello everyone. My name is Vermilion, of course, this isn't my real name, and no you may not ask about it. I will be overseeing this operation with the assistance of Captain Koffi" he gestured at the black man at his right. "Your objective is to neutralize SCP-3980-JP, so we can contain it. I and the captain will be overseeing you from the helicopter and give you some info from above. Any questions? No? Good. Rendezvous in ten minutes at the edge of the forest. You are dismissed."

Wanda spent the last ten minuted cleaning her SMG and chatting idly with her squad-mates. They then followed Lieutenant Lopez to the rendezvous point. They were then divided into four sections, each led by a Lieutenant. She was in group Charlie. They began to creep in the forest, weapons at the ready on full-auto. She saw by the corner of her eyes the green-horn trembling.

"Don't worry, man, we'll be fine." She tried to soothe him.

"Maybe but if we're going to be so fine, why we're so many?"

She had actually thought this during the briefing. She frowned, the kid wouldn't go far by asking questions like that. She put up a facade of ease.

"The higher-ups are probably under-estimating us. They're always worrying about the smallest things."

He looked a bit reassured, she smiled at him. Behind her facade, she was actually worrying. The higher-ups rarely did things without valid reasons. She had to be very careful.

They kept advancing in the forest, carefully scanning the thick surrounding woodland. The anomaly could probably hide there. The forest strangely was silent, no birds or insect could be heard. They arrived at a small clearing devoid of life. Suddenly their comms blasted Vermilion's voice.

"HEAT SIGNATURE AT YOUR LEFT COMING FAST."

Suddenly a rustle was heard, every soldier turning their weapons, their flash-lights revealing a fox.  
The soldiers chuckled, some of them mocking Vermilion.

"Wait that's the right." Said Alan.

The soldiers froze as a loud boom was heard behind them. They looked only to see trees crashing down on them, two or three soldiers were crushed by the trees. Barrelling out of the forest was a massive mass of flesh, with what looked like tentacles. The monster let out an inhuman shrill as he crashed in the middle of the MTFs. The one close to his landing site, falling on the ground. Quickly the beast threw one of his tentacles at a downed man. He wrapped him before approaching him next to his mouth and tearing its head off. A resounding crack was heard, the body fell to the ground as munching and bone breaking sound could be heard. This seemed to rouse the MTFs from their shocked state.

"SHOOT THE BASTARD !" shouted the Lieutenant.

All the soldiers started to unload their clips at the anomaly, some shots connected but most of them missed as the monster jumped in the air. He came down crushing a trooper before slamming a soldier into another with one of his appendages. The creature growled before flinging another man at a nearby tree. All the while the MTFs were shooting for all they were worth. Cries of agony could be heard over the radio, drowning the orders to reinforce Team Charlie. Some of the darts didn't even penetrate the thick of the creature.

Wanda was desperately trying to keep her distances with the monster as it jumped from targets to targets, crushing them, beating them, throwing them and even eating them. Next, to her, the rookie was white, gripping his rifle so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. He couldn't even fire, shell-shocked as he was. Wanda decided to snap him out of it, he would get killed otherwise.

«Hey! Hey! Hey!" She snapped her finger «Listen!"

«Wot?" Replied the shocked green-horn.

"Fire you idiot!"

"A-a-h ye-e-s."

He said stuttering slightly, aiming the iron sights at the creature, except it wasn't in his sight. A loud crashing sound was heard behind them. They turned as the monster roared at them. The rookie started to cry and shout as he was picked up by a tentacle. Wanda fired at the monster, but soon her clip ran dry. She tried to desperately reach for Alan. His eyes wide as he tried to reach out to her hand, but he pulled by the monster. It started to pull his legs and his torso. It was a matter of second. Alan Walker was torn in two, large amount of gore and blood coming out.

The creature dropped him on the ground. His upper half tried to crawl toward Wanda, a word died on his lip as blood poured out of them. His teary eyes locked with Wanda's before he dropped to the ground, to never move again. Wanda started to shake, in four years of service she never saw that. She wanted to puke, she wanted to cry, but what she wanted the most was to be away from here, in her parent's cozy home. From the corner of her eyes, she saw a flash of blue, but nobody paid attention to it.

The monster disposed of five other soldiers, throwing them upwards, just for them to die from the fall. During this time 10 clips of P90, representing more than five hundred darts filled with a sedative made for elephants, were unloaded on the monster. It barely slowed it. It lasted thirty seconds before the monster advanced toward Wanda, intended on killing the little, pathetic, sobbing human. And during those thirty seconds, Wanda prayed, she prayed to all devils and gods to help her, to help all her comrades. And her wishes were answered.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Kamijou Touma woke up with dirt in his mouth, his head was fuzzy. What happened? His memories started to come back, Mikoto... a pursuit... a lab with a strange machine. He suddenly began to stand upright, where was he? All around him were tall trees, at least it was day. His eyes widened as he realized the sounds around him, it wasn't the chirping of birds or the low rustling of leaves no, he could hear people fighting, screaming, loud crashing sound. He jumped as a corpse landed a few meters away from him. He looked at it, it was a soldier with a forest camouflage, emblazoned on his back was a circle with three arrows pointing inside it, below was written in bold letter SCP. He did not dwell on the soldier for long, those people needed help, they needed him.

Without thinking Touma began to run as fast as possible toward the sounds of battle.

A few seconds later he arrived at a small clearing. There he saw a dozen of corpses on the ground, some crushed, some lacked parts of their body. His gaze shifted to the abomination responsible for this slaughter. A giant mass of writhing flesh and tentacles. Some survivors, no more than five were firing at it with little effect; The thing was creeping toward a young woman next to the torn up body of her comrade. He had to intervene, he had to save those who were still alive. He shouted in defiance as he ran to the monster, it turned toward him roaring with his deformed mouth, accepting the challenge.

"You think you can kill them just like that? I'm going to destroy that illusion!" Shouted Touma.

The monster jumped, trying to crush him beneath his frame, Touma rolled to his left as the thing landed with a loud boom. A tentacle was savagely lunged at him, which he evaded by jumping to the ground. He ran toward the monster, his right hand at the ready. He had to dodge and duck as multiple tentacles tried to hit his head and legs; There! He saw an opening, one of its tentacle was near his right hand and not moving. He lunged and gripped the appendage. The monster could do nothing but shriek as he disappeared, the only traces of his existence being the dozen of corpses he left in his wake.

Touma panted and sat on the ground, he was tired from both his run and his fight. Around him, more than fifty rifles cocked at the ready. He looked around him as a half hundred of soldiers were pointing their gun at him, he was surrounded. A helicopter was hovering above him.

"FIR.." shouted the Captain on the radio.

«Wait! Wait!"

The shouts of the woman he saved stopped the soldiers.

"He helped us. He made the SCP disappear."

She tried to defend him, however, it was useless as the voice of Vermillion was heard.

"He made the SCP disappear? Sedate him, I'm sure the Foundation will be delighted to receive such a thing."

Touma's eyes fluttered and he fell into a deep sleep as a dart entered his skin. He could barely hear the sound of boots marching toward him.

"Are you crazy? You shot him with a sedative made for elephants! You're going to kill him." Came the undignified voice of Wanda.

"Don't worry, this dart is different, it's made for humans." Explained one of the lieutenants, showing a needle pistol. "He should sleep for a good three hours, just in time to get to AS-54."

"Nu-7 withdraw to the rendezvous point. We will escort this new anomaly to AS-54"

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Wanda couldn't believe what happened, one moment everything was quiet, the next everyone was dying and then someone managed to beat the SCP while twenty trained soldiers couldn't. They were now on the way back to their main Japanese armed outpost. Armed Site 54 or AS-54 was a fortress hidden deep in the Japanese Alps in Chubu. The anomalies that saved them was handcuffed to his seat, he was soundly asleep. She observed him, he was a teen, probably Japanese, he had a mane of spiky black hair, he was dressed in a white shirt covered by a black jacket with black pants that reminded her of a Japanese school uniform. They had searched him and took his cellphone. They also took his wallet but did not open it yet.

She herself was taller than him by half a head. She had blond hair cut low in a boyish manner, her eyes were a deep emerald green. Her face was rather grim at the moment.

The truck suddenly jerked to a stop, they had finally arrived. They were now inside a rather large garage filled with trucks, APCs, and even two or three tanks. Soldiers, mechanics, scientists bustled around each attending to their work.

"Sergeant Wanda." Called an officer "Take those three men behind you and escort the anomaly to room I-1.

"Sir, yes sir" she replied before realizing "Sir, I am a corporal."

"Now you're a sergeant, and you will escort the anomaly, understood?"

She nodded, they had promoted her? Well, she did not saw the sergeant... She sighed and gestured to the three men behind her to escort their save- the anomaly to the interrogation room. They took the hi- its limped body, before following her in the maze of corridor and room that formed AS-54. Luckily room I-1 was nearby and they arrived less than five minutes later. In there was an Asian researcher, she was rather young and petite, no more than twenty. She had an air of cold indifference, however, her eyes were calculating, analysing the soldiers and the anomaly before her.

"Hello. I'm Professor Mishimoto, you're sergeant Carter yes?"

The researcher introduced herself with an emotionless face, extending her hand to shake Wanda's. She nodded before gesturing the soldier to drop the anomaly on the chair. It started to show sign of awakening. The soldiers handcuffed him to the table.

"Good at least we won't have to wait for too long"

Nu-7's captain entered the room. He was a tall black man with a shaved head, he sported multiple scars. Multiple medals proudly displayed. He held himself in an authoritarian manner, straight and imposing. He sat on a chair next to Mishimoto.

"Wake him up," he ordered his subordinate.

Wanda started to shake the teen who roughly woke up, he tried to stand but both his hands were firmly handcuffed to the table. His eyes started to dart around the room. He noticed three soldiers, one of them being the woman he saved. She was rather beautiful, with blond hair, piercing green eyes and generous forms. Across from him was another soldier, more likely an officer, he exuded an air of authority. Next to him was a cute and young Asian woman. She gazed coolly at him, her white jacket indicated her as a scientist. The black officer coughed loudly.

"I'm Captain Koffi and this is researcher Miyamoto. Behind you is corporal Carter. Can you tell me your name"

It was rather brusque but Touma still decided to reply.

"I'm Touma Kamijou, can you tell me..."

He was cut off by the second question of the captain.

"From where are you?"

"Academy City, now w..."

"How old are you?"

"I'm sixteen, can you t..."

They checked his wallet to confirm his saying. He was indeed Touma Kamijou, livving in Academy City... A Level 0 ? What was that ?

"What did you do with your right hand ?"

This time it was the young scientist who cut him. In all his honesty Touma replied.

"Oh it erases the anomalous and supernatural"

The room froze as both the captain's eyebrows and the scientist's rose. She quickly composed herself.

"By 'erases' what do you mean?"

"I mean that it just ceases to exist, like creature made only from supernatural just disappear, while a person with anomalous power will cease to have them while I touch them. NOW CAN YOU TELL ME WHERE I AM AND WHO YOU ARE? Are you SCP? Your uniforms have that sigil."

The scientist and the captain looked at each other. They whispered discreetly, trying to come to a consensus. They broke apart half a minute later.

"Well Mr. Kamijou, we are the SCP Foundation. We... take care of any anomalous entities we encounter."

"Really? Like Espers? I mean we're already taken care of at Academy City."

"Sorry, but what is this Academy City? I never heard about it." Asked the researcher.

"Academy City. The City of technology and espers, with a technological advance of twenty years! Come on you must have heard of it."

"I'm sorry but we do not know this city, what year is it for you?"

"2012. Why?"

"I'm sorry to say it to you but we are currently in 2018 AD. And we have no record or ever heard of Academy City. I'm sorry but you're probably in the wrong dimension Mr. Kamijou."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Wanda could not believe what she heard, the boy was from another dimension. Whoopie! Her day wasn't enough nerve-wracking yet. The interview droned on for about twenty minutes before they escorted Kamijou out. Meanwhile, the researcher and the captain were contacting one of the higher-ups for orders. They came out of the room twenty minutes later. Those twenty minutes were spent in total silence. The anomaly, she thought was definitely not bad looking. A pretty face, muscled, and a nice butt. Definitely not bad.  
They were invited to enter once again.

"We have conferred with Vermillion and the Site Director from AS-54 and Site 06-3. The anomaly known as Kamijou Touma will be transferred ASAP to Site 06-3 by plane, Psychologist Mishimoto. Sergeant Carter and her squad will escort them."

Touma could only accept what was coming. Against magicians, espers or scientists he would be able to do anything but here in another world, guarded by people specialized in dealing with the supernatural he could do nothing.

It was 3 PM here in Japan. The flight would last eleven hours and Site 06-3 timeframe was seven hours earlier than Japan's thus, counting one hour of preparation they'd arrive at 9 PM at Site 06-3. Site 06-3 was a Containment Site designed for anomalous humanoid entities. It was located in France, in Alsace. The flight was a rocky affair. Both Wanda and Kamijou couldn't sleep due to the vibration of the plane. Wanda was also kept up from the images of Walker being torn in half. Her squad which were three men and one woman coming from Team Alpha were soundly asleep. Kamijou was across her, they were both lying on a makeshift bed.

"So you know where we are going?" Asked Touma breaking the uneasy silence.

"Yes, I think in France" Replied Wanda.

Normally she should not have answered, but at this point, she didn't really care

about protocol. She was also grateful for having a distraction

"Nice, I went one time to France, it was cool."

If you barred the people trying to kill him, he did not said that aloud. She laughed.

"I don't think that you'll be able to do shopping or have a nice coffee and croissant."

"Hahaha. Probably. Do you know what they'll do with me?"

She did not reply for a minute before opening her mouth.

"I should not tell you that but they'll lock you up, do some experimentation on you, try to see what happens when you touch SCPs. By the way that's how we call anomalies."

"Thank you." The soft reply surprised her.

"I'm telling you that they'll jail you for your life, experiment on you and you said thanks?"

"At least you're honest."

Memories of the Kihara started to make his way up his mind.

"Thank you." Came the voice of Wanda. "For saving me But why did you help us?"

"I couldn't let that thing kill you. It was the right thing to do."

And he was a hero, a good package she thought.

"My name is Wanda." She decided to present herself.

"I'm Kamijou Touma" Replied Touma.

"So, how is where you come from?" She asked

And they discussed for a good two hours about themselves. She learned that he was in high school and not really good at it, he attributed this to his bad luck. He was pretty much a normal teenager, he had friends, liked video games and manga. He had a sister and was apparently very unlucky. She was convinced when a small turbulence managed to get him under a pile of dirty men underwear. They both had a good laugh about this.  
Kamijou on his side learned that she was the eldest sister of a family of three. She was recruited by the Foundation during an inspection by one of their agents during a battle simulation of the British Army. She then served for three years in their armed group, which he learned was called Nu-7. She liked chess, paintball and making sculptures or other things with a bit of anything. They both shared a passion for the arcade.

They finally managed to sleep after two hours of discussions. It was seven hours later that they woke up as the plane landed. They were transferred into a car, the last part of the trip was done silently. A black bandanna was tied around their eyes. Twenty minutes later they stopped, he was roughly shoved off the car. The soldiers' bandannas were untied but not Touma's. They took a lot of turns suggesting a complex facility. His bandanna was finally untied, after a good fifteen minutes of walking. In front of him was a man in a suit, his face was hidden by a clever trick of lighting. It gave him both anonymity and an air of intimidation. Next to him was a gruff man whose face was revealed. He was white with a black beard, a shaved skull and a bulletproof jacket bearing the SCP sigil was donned over him.

"Welcome to Site 06-3 kid."

**A CERTAIN SCP**


	3. Site 06-3

However, some had been captured by the law enforcement and were currently being interrogated, without any results. Inside the interrogation room, Officer Yomikawa was angrily interrogating one of the scientists

"Who are you dammit? You do not appear on our registry, your company 'Prometheus Laboratories' doesn't exist on any records! None of the Directors from the board knows you! So once again who are you and what do you ?!"

She slammed her hands on the table, her face twisted in a feral snarl. Crowley had started to pressure them to get answers out of the scientists.

"You know my boss is pretty pissed right now, I'm sure you can ask all the people who refused to speak how it was. Not sure some can actually talk though." Intervened Tessou Tsuzuri.

She looked like she was totally bored, feet on the table cutting her nails. She was playing the part of the good cop, feigning nonchalance helped the criminal believe her. Of course, Yomikawa probably wouldn't go that far... she hoped.

"You know what Yomi? Just get out for a bit, yeah relax. You can go see the guy next cell he isn't talking."

As scripted Yomikawa got out, stomping loudly, the perfect image of fury.

"Now we can talk a bit. Why don't you begin by your name?"

"My name is... Mynarski."

"Oh, so you're from Poland right?"

"Y-yes indee-"

He was cut as a cry came out from the cell next to them. It was one of intense pain. Fake sounds has been blasted by a hidden speakers.. Silence reigned for a few seconds before Tessou sighed.

"Classic Yomikawa..."

The man in front of her gulped. The door opened and lo and behold came Yomikawa sporting a satisfied smile. She turned her face to the captured scientist.

"Now are you going to talk?"

"Yes, alright yes I'll talk, don't hurt me" sputtered the man.

"Good so who are you and what do you do here?"

"We are a company named Prometheus Laboratories. We come from... and what we were building this …... machine so we could …...

While he was talking some of the sentences didn't make it out of his mouth. His lips were moving and he was blowing air but no sound came out of it.

"Are you fucking with us?" Came the reply from Yomikawa.

The man looked shocked and spluttered indignantly.

"But it's true! I told you the truth!"

"Are you kidding us, you didn't even tell us the important parts!"

"Wh-wh-what I told you that we come from …... and-"

"Exactly this! You don't tell where you're coming from! STOP PLAYING AROUND!"  
Roared Yomikawa.

"But I'm telling you that we come from ….. ..-" The man trailed off.

"Oh no... They put a …... on us. I did not even know."

"A what? Speak up!"

"Basically it is an anomalous effect which disable to I cannot say classified information."

"You think we're going to believe you? We're going to see that."

The interrogation lasted for a good two hours and none of the agents manages to get something out of the scientist. The other bore the same results, none. The only thing that could make the investigation advance was the capture of their leader. Supervisor Cromley himself began to back the investigation, the power of Academy City was mobilized to find Kamijou Touma. Aleister Crowley hated to admit it but he needed the boy. The sooner the better. The people involved were confused, why waste so many resources on someone who was probably dead. Crowley's only answer was a chilling 'I know that he is alive'.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

MMisaka Mikoto was in her dorm at Tokiwadai sprawled on the bed, Kuroko was away on Judgement business. Her eyes were shadowed by dark bags underneath them. She had spent the day mulling over yesterday failure. Her gekota frog toy clasped tight in her hand. As she looked at the ceiling everything turned black. She let out a yelp of surprise as she was turned upside down before finally stopping. She looked around her, she was in a great black room with no window, little blobs of light illuminated the room. Said room was filled with people. She recognized some of them particularly, Index, the little silver-haired nun that lived with Touma. As well as that blond show-off with who Touma was friend with, Tsuchimikado was it? She suddenly realized that the room was actually filled with those 'magicians'. There was a trio of nuns from the Catholic church, a Miko, actual witches? And was that a princess? There were so many people in the room that she could not count them all.

"Hello, Misaka Mikoto. This is about Touma's disappearance. We need you to tell us what happened. We know you want to help, we do too." Said a man in a black coat, cigarette in mouth.

"Who are you people anyway?" Huffed Misaka. She was not in the mood.

The man sighed. Tsuchimikado decided to intervene.

"We are his allies, just like you." He then grinned"Or are you something else? Like a lov-"

"NOOO, no, no no. I'm just his friend" Replied Mikoto blushing.

"Tsuchimikado, it's not a way to talk to people" Shouted a blushing buxom katana wielding bombshell behind him.

"Yeah, yeah nee-chan." Replied Tsuchimikado"So, Misaka-chan what happened?"

Misaka Mikoto considered her options. She decided to tell them. Anyway Index was with them, she was Touma's friend, right? Tsuchimikado too right? They were probably trying to help him, but that was probably too late for that he was maybe dead. She began to tell them what happened. The pursuit, the building, the accident. When she finished all the magicians were thinking and mulling over her words.

"Was there something on the machine?" Asked Tsuchimikado.

"Yes, a blue P and L in a circle."

Tsuchimikado froze.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes"

He sighed.

"We knew by magic that he was in another dimension. But if it is this one, he's going to have some problems. It is maybe not the worst dimension, but still..."

Misaka exploded.

"HE IS IN ANOTHER DIMENSION!"

It was both reassuring and worrying. The former because he wasn't dead. The latter because he was in another dimension. The thought of never seeing him again despite the fact that he was alive was too much for her to bear.

"Don't be like that. We can save him, we'll just need your help and some of the science's side also."

«R-really?"

"Yup, we just need the entirety of the Kamijou faction to help us"

"Yes, yes, we're going to help him Misaka-san." Said the little nun jumping in place.

Mikoto steeled herself. There was no time to waste. This time she would be his savior. She and the magicians began discussing plans. In the following days, wits would be used to their fullest.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Welcome to Site 06-3 kid."

"Hello." Said Touma.

"Those" The bearded man gestured at a table where a bright orange jumpsuit was folded among other things"are your personal affairs. Put the clothes and the other personal objects you are carrying in this plastic container. You can go undress in that cabin, we'll just take a photo of you quickly before."

"Hello. I'm the Site Director, you may address me as such." Said the shadowy man, his voice distorted by electronic means. Before Touma could answer he walked away, two guards waiting in the shadows escorted him.

Touma did as ordered, undressing and putting on the bright orange jumpsuit, the big SCP logo on the back. He put a badge with a photo of his face, that they took after he finished dressing, and the words SCP followed by a blank space. Other blank spaces were waiting to be filled underneath.

When he got out of the cabin he saw that three people were now present. An old man with balding gray hair and hazel eyes, his nose made him look like a vulture, his face was blank and he exuded seriousness. The second was a portly stout bearded man with brown hair, blue eyes, he seemed to be in good humor. The third was the woman who interrogated him. They all wore the white coats the scientific favored, the SCP logo displayed on their chest.

The old man stepped first.

"I'm Dr. Senaviev. I will be the researcher in charge of you and the experiments concerning you."

The portly man was the next to greet him.

"Pleasure to meet you my name is Kels. Assistant Kels, like my title may indicate I will assist Dr. Senaviev. You can also tell me if you need something."

Lastly, Mishimoto came to meet him. Her gaze cool, her long hair tied in a ponytail behind her.

"I think you already know me, I'm a psychologist Mishimoto. I will be available for an interview, I will also take care of your psychological state"

"Well, um, I'm Touma Kamijou, please take care of me." He said bowing, his politeness taking over.

The bearded assistant laughed.

"My, what a polite young man ! I'm sure we will have an excellent relationship."

The older man glowered at him. They weren't here to chat and befriend anomaly. They were here to study them! He coughed to get the other's attention.

"Follow us, we will make you pass some tests to evaluate you."

Touma followed the scientists, still escorted by Wanda and her team. They passed down blank corridors devoid of anything, at some crossroads, the panel indicated the direction of certain important rooms such as the Site Director's office, the armory, the Containment Zone etc... It was necessary for the maze that was the Foundation's sites. They finally arrived at a medical bay. The doctor waited for them and gestured at Touma to come closer. Here Touma was measured, his tension was taken, his teeth were checked, they checked if his vaccines were up to date etc... Touma revealed to be in perfect health, albeit the personnel found the number of scars on his person troubling, the doctor was scribbling furiously on his leaflet. As for his vaccines, they proved to be up to date and even more advanced than most vaccines on earth. Meanwhile, Wanda got an eyeful and appreciated it.

Afterward, they reached another room, whose only furnitures were a dozen desk and chairs.

"Take a chair we will give you some school work to see what your level is. Professor Mishimoto has prepped some in Japanese. You talk well in English but we prefer that you take it in your maternal language, well except for the English test of course." Explained the assistant.

Touma sat at one of the tables. Mishimoto gave him tests of all kind: Physics, maths, literature, social studies etc... He silently thanked Komoe sensei and all the classes she gave him, especially in maths and English. He managed to finish all the leaflet in two hours. Mishimoto quickly scanned them while nodding her head approvingly.

"Last test subject, bear with it, it's over soon.»

Everyone except him and Mishimoto stayed. He looked at her expectantly. She returned his gaze with her own cool black eyes.

"We will now do some psychological tests.»

The following hour was spent talking to Mishimoto, she made him look at different images and tell her what he saw. Questioned him about his thoughts and reaction about certain events. She asked questions about his childhood but he seemed rather evasive while questioning about his recent life was answered more truthfully. She continued with quick quizzes to determine his level of anxiety or any mental disorder.

"We are done here. The guards will now escort you to your chamber. You will fill a form about items you desire. And I think we will call it a day. It's past midnight. Goodnight."

She yawned before making her way out of the room.

"Goodnight." Replied Touma as she exited her room.

"You finished?" Called Wanda. Who was beginning to fall asleep from the waiting.

«Yeah!" Replied Touma as he made his way out of the room.

The group continued onward following Wanda to the containment. As they passed Touma could see multiple numbers, most of them a simple number and a photo. He shivered when seeing some of the photos. Some of them had a picture with a message underneath it such as 'violent' or 'cognitohazard'. A great number of guards patrolled the corridors, their faces masked by helmets with black tinted glass. They did not utter a word but looked at Touma. He could not tell how they looked at him, with contempt, sympathy, curiosity. He definitely thought the first.

The white walls and eerie silence did nothing to calm his nerves. The only sound breaking the silence were the sounds of their footsteps as well as the guards', sometime a moan could be heard but it stopped soon after. At one moment they passed by a special containment chamber. The number was 706 accompanied by the picture of a doll with the sign 'suicide watch' placated near the door. Two guards were posted at the door. A large window let the group see who or what was inside. It was a girl. But she looked like a porcelain doll. Her long blond hairs were made of silk. She was curled on her bed, shaking. Before Touma could see any further they passed the observation bay.

It was a few minutes later that they arrived at his cell. His photo was plastered against the panel but there was no identification number or any signs.

"Yeah, we didn't have time to give you a number so we'll call you Mr. Kamijou or anomaly or subject.» Said Wanda, looking sincerely apologetic while uttering the last word.

Touma nodded, she opened the room and he entered. It was indeed spartan. The room must have been no more than ten or twelve meters square. There was a small white bed with a white cover, a desk was present in a corner of the room, it was as well white, accompanied by a white plastic chair. There was a small open wardrobe where were stored seven bright orange jumpsuits.

The walls were... well... white. A very small bathroom was present in the room's corner. The odor of cleaning product assaulted his nose.

"Good night." Said Wanda, she noticed that the soldiers were gone and muttered a quick 'Touma' while smiling.

"Good night Wanda." He replied with a smile.

The door closed and Touma was now alone in a small room with nothing to do. He noticed two paper leaves and a pen on the desk. He walked toward the desk and sat on the small plastic chair. He began to read the form.

Hello and welcome to the SCP Foundation.

If you read this form you're an SCP, what is SCP? We will explain this, right now.

The SCP Foundation, standing for Secure. Contain. Protect. is an international non-profit based organization whose goal is to collect all anomalous items and persons (We're talking about you) and do as stated above to protect humanity and also to protect you from them. We call anomalies SCP, you will be referred to as such plus your identification number. As a sentient and non-violent SCP, you have been granted the right to ask for items of furniture, entertaining material, a certain type of food etc... Please bear in mind that we are not obligated to accept those requests. Extravagant, dangerous or expensive requests can and will be refused. Should you prove to be rebellious or violent toward Foundation staff or disobey the rules those privileges can be revoked.

Of course, we have a few rules here they are :

-Obey Foundation staff, particularly but not limited to: Researchers, security officers, Site Director and advisors etc...

-Do not talk to Foundation staff except if you are told or allowed to do so.

-Do not harm, physically or mentally, directly or indirectly Foundation staff or other SCPs. This include but is not limited to aggression, murder, psychic manipulation etc... Except if you are told to do so.

-Do not try to contact the outside world except if you are given the authorization.

-Do not get out of your Containment chamber except if you are allowed or ordered to do so. Even during a containment breach.

-Do not get out of the Site except if you are allowed or ordered to do so.

-Do not confer with any fellow SCPs to harm the Foundation.

-Do not steal the Foundation's property.

-Do not create anomalously or normally dangerous entities. For the creation via anomalous means of any entities, please first ask on this leaflet. You must also let the staff evaluate the entities you create if created anomalously, especially if said entities are anomalous themselves.

Remember that violating those rules can be ground for termination. However, you also possess rights :

-You have the right to be fed, clothed and sheltered. The Foundation will provide you with those needs.

-The right to a basic education, if you have not completed your primary schooling those courses will be mandatory.

-The right to protect yourself. If a staff member is overly violent or inappropriate please report it to Foundation staff.

-The right for psychological sessions. It can be very stressing to be here, you may also have a difficult past. We understand that. You can ask for private psychological sessions outside the monthly mandatory ones. This right can be removed if you violate certain rules above.

Thank you for your comprehension.

We sincerely wish you a good stay here.

The SCP Foundation.

Touma sighed when he finished reading the leaflet. He took the second form, starting to fill the empty lines with what he wanted. He asked for some books, a television, things to draw with, some candies. He hesitated before writing down, the authorization to contact Academy City and the authorization to sometime go out of his chamber.

He stopped writing at this point, trying not to ask for too much.

He put down the pen and went to shower himself in the tiny bathroom before going to bed. He closed his eyes. However, because of the jet lag, he could not sleep. And such he lied there. In another dimension, far from his friends, deep in a secured facility. Alone. No silver-haired hungry nun, no angry Biribiri not even Styil, Kanzaki, Orsola or anyone else. Alone.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Saeko Mishimoto was working on Touma's file, compiling results, analyzing them. She came to the conclusion that it had a 'heroic' mind, that its sense of self-preservation was lesser than most and most importantly it seemed to have a troubled past. Maybe PTSD? Kamijou had been very straightforward with her during their talks. She frowned, why would it try to hide anything dating after one year? She had very few details of its history below fifteen years old.

It was trying to hide something and she would find out what, one way or another.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

In a world of magicians and espers, multiple cabals, societies, and organizations were all focused on a single being, or rather his location. Kamijou Touma became the world's most wanted person. From the Holy Roman Catholic Church to the dark and powerful cabal of GREMLIN by the cabal of the golden dawn. From Aleister Crowley's own tower to the secret laboratories of the infamous Kihara by the barracks of the Black Crows. In Japan, Europe, the Americas, and places out of time and space, mysterious figures discussed, plans were plotted and plots were planned. Men and women were mobilized. Spies scurried for information for their masters. Some wondered where was this boy, who rapidly became one of the major players in both the magical and scientific world. But most already knew where he was, another dimension. It was during this fateful day that two sides were created. Those who wanted to bring Touma back and those who wanted him to stay in this other dimension. It would be a war between them. Already the tens of thousand members of the Kamijou Faction were starting to find a way to get their leader's back. And already GREMLIN was plotting to stop them.


	4. Tests and Backstreet Rumble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The SCPs you are about to see in this chapter are not the most exciting. They are interesting for an SCP reader but not as spectacular as 049, 682 and the like. I'm sorry but the Foundation must take it slowly. I can't just send him to kill 343 (God) directly.

Misaka Mikoto was walking at night in the streets of Academy City, she had gone to the Anti-Skill precinct to get some news on Touma's case. Yomikawa had informed her that they didn't manage to get anything out of the scientists. They could not even continue to interrogate them as they were taken by Hound Dogs, under the blessing of Crowley himself.

She sighed, research by the 'magic' side was also at a dead point, with few things to work on progress was slow. She rounded a corner to take a shortcut. As she was walking in the dark street a glint in the corner of her eyes alerted her. She jumped to the side as three spears of light embedded themselves where she previously was. Three figures dropped around her, surrounding her. They were dressed in black robes, their faces covered by hoods.

Silently they began to turn around her, like sharks. She was definitely not in the mood. Her hands were soon filled with electricity as blue arcs of energy danced around her. She extended her arms, sending lightning all around her. The black robed figures muttered something unintelligible, the electricity bounced before them as an invisible shield protected them.

One of them, the tallest, jumped toward her, brandishing a shield with a red cross painted upon it. A sword in his other hand. Meanwhile, the smallest, a dagger in his hand kept circling around her. As the shield-bearer was about to reach her she side-stepped sending a blast of electricity at him, despite hitting his metal shield the wearer did not seems to be hurt, instead, he used his shield to bash her, sending her near the last figure. She was chanting in Latin.

" _Exodus 9:33: Egressusque Moyses a Pharaone ex urbe, tetendit manus ad Dominum : et cessaverunt tonitrua..._ "

She could not finish his phrase as Misaka kicked her in the mouth as she recovered from the bash. A feminine cry escaped her victim's lips as she was shocked into unconsciousness by Misaka. Her body fell to the floor with a satisfying thud. Misaka put herself in a fighting position, facing the swordsman. She turned around, seeing a blade quivering merely two centimeters away from her. A man's frame slowly emerged from shadows, still trying to pierce her. Misaka's brows scrunched in concentration as she was using her magnetism to stop the blade from hitting her. She pushed the man by blasting him with a bolt of electricity, the assassin went flying before going back on his feet and joining his comrade.

"To say that you can stop Carnwennan, even just a reproduction. They weren't kidding when they said you were strong." Said the nimble assassin.

"Who sent you? Why did you attack me? If you tell me you might make it out of Academy City unharmed." Replied Misaka darkly.

The shield-bearer huffed before launching himself once again at Misaka, shield held in front of him. As he was about to bring his sword down a thunderbolt hit his sword, he only laughed as a golden glow emanated from his shield.

"The Shield of Evalach protects me of your puny attack. This shield has been blessed by the blood of one of the holders of the Holy Grail itself."

Misaka rolled her eyes. She backpedaled away from him, giving herself space. She noticed beer and soda cans lying on the street, she smirked.

"Let's see if your grail holder can resist that."

Misaka sent a dozen of cans at the man.

"Ha! Trying to kill me with flimsy cans, girl?"

Misaka's only response was to twist her hands. As the can neared the man, directed by Misaka to go to his hands, he let her do as she pleased. The electro-master could not see her opponent's faces but could guess that he had a confident smirk. It would be his downfall. As the cans neared the man's hands they suddenly transformed into balls of superheated plasma. This kind of heat was normally found in stars. Despite not inflicting actual damages to the shield-bearer, the extreme heat forced him to abandon both his bright shield and his sword. As the plasma died, Misaka continued her attack. She had not long ago decided to keep a bit of iron sand on a pouch to carry everywhere. She manipulated the sand into four small pikes, similar to Kuroko's, before sending them to the man's hands and feet. The hands and feet of the swordsman were pierced by the pikes who embedded themselves in the ground, rendering him unable to move.

The assassin tried to help his downed comrade he had to retreat because of thunderbolts landing before him blocking his way. Misaka ran to the pinned swordsman, touching him with her hand and electrifying him to unconsciousness. The assassin stopped in his tracks, carefully judging the situation.

"I reiterate my earlier proposition, what will you choose?"

The rogue looked at her before sighing.

"I am going to regret this but I have to keep fighting you it would be an insult toward them if I did not."

Misaka shrugged.

"Your life, your choice."

The assassin readied himself in a position, ready to pounce on her. Misaka reached for her pocket, drawing an arcade coin out of her pocket.

"Do you know what is a Railgun?" She asked rhetorically.

She flipped the coin in the air before flicking it toward her opponent. The man rolled to the side as an orange beam of energy crashed on the ground leaving a small crater in the ground. He looked, as the girl, flipping a coin.

"So this is the famous railgun."

"The powered down version, yes."

He gulped, he wouldn't like to receive that directly at full power. The ground beneath Misaka suddenly melted, she jumped, with a yelp, away from it.

 _"Micah 1:4: Et_ consumentur _montes_ subtus eum _: et_ valles scindentur sicut cera _a_ facie ignis _, et_ sicut _aquæ, quæ_ decurrunt _in præceps."_ Said a voice belonging to the once stunned woman. She got up and joined her comrade's side.

"Are you okay Lucia?" Asked the assassin with genuine worry.

She only nodded and pointed at her necklace whose stone was cracked.

"I don't think I can take one more attack like that."

Misaka tched, she enveloped herself in arcs of electricity once more. The two cloaked figures readied themselves. The assassin launched himself toward Miaka while Lucia was chanting in Latin once again.

_"Micah 1:4: Et consumentur montes subtus eum: et valles scindentur sicut cera a facie ignis, et sicut aquæ, quæ decurrunt in præceps"_

The ground melted behind Misaka, she could not retreat. She brought her arms up before violently releasing a wave of lightning, the man was hit square in the chest, falling on the ground his robes sizzled. However she could not move as three arrows of light hit her square in the chest sending her flying, she nearly fell into the melted ground.

_"Deuteronomy 32:23: Congregabo super eos mala, et sagittas meas complebo in eis."_

The magician frowned, despite the reduced power of the arrow, that should have killed her. Misaka got up showing a pierced thick assemblage of metal protecting her, she had managed to use her magnetism to assemble random bits of metal. She was getting tired and this girl's powers that she had yet to define by a scientific way were taking too much of a toll on her. The sizzled assassin also got back on his feet, Carnwennan in his hand. He jumped back next to his partner.

She looked desperate, what could help her? She noticed two streetlight, barely illuminating the street and a pipe climbing to the top of the building. Oh yes! If she could... Then yes... So it would... Oh yeah, it was all coming together. She grinned, taking a coin out of her pocket.

"Do you know what a Railgun is?"

"Oh come on stop making that gimmick again, that won't work."

She grinned sending the coin in the air. Very high in the air. Quickly she sent filaments of electricity to the lightbulbs, burning them out, thus creating a small bright arc flash, not enough to be lethal, blinding her opponent as they shouted in surprise. The magician quickly chanted creating a forward barrier to protect them. She herself covered her eyes, before sprinting to the pipe. Putting her feet on it she quickly ascended upwards, stopping in midair to flick the coin she had launched. A bright orange beam landed between the two attackers, bypassing the barrier, sending them flying against the walls and knocking them out.

Misaka glided against the pipe before softly touching the ground. She sighed as she looked over the scene of devastation. She crouched next to all of her attackers checking that they were still stunned before bringing them together to tie them with electrical wires and iron sand. As she pulled her phone out to call Anti-Skill she paused, hesitating. If she gave them to Anti-Skill, they would probably be taken by Crowley and Hound Dogs, who knew what they would do with them. No, maybe those people had information on where Touma was and how to reach him. She scrolled through her contacts before finally selecting 'Tsuchimikado'

"Hello, Tsuchimikado-san."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Saeko Mishimoto was walking in the halls of Site 06-3, a female Class-D following her. Her face as emotionless as ever. It had been a day since she arrived here, it was morning and she was going to Mr. Kamijou's chamber to bring him for some test. Beneath her indifferent facade, she was actually irritated. Her young age had attracted unwanted attention from her new colleagues. It was infuriating, most treated her like she was still a kid, while others were whispering behind her back that she did less than savory activities to reach her current position. She did not answer any of the remarks, they would continue for a few days before stopping, finding another center of interest. It was not her fault that she was a genius. She had skipped a lot of classes before finally achieving a psychology doctorate at the mere age of eighteen. She was used to people disrespecting her because of her age, but at least at AS-54 people had finally begun to treat her normally.

She finally reached the door of the anomaly's chamber. She told the guard accompanying them that he was no longer required here. He nodded before walking to where they came from. She turned to the Class-D behind her. The Class-D was carrying a platter with breakfast on it.

"It will be your duty to bring this anomaly his food during lunch hours, among other things. If you fail this task, which I really doubt, you will be re-assigned."

The Class-D nodded meekly. D-1405, born Clara McLaren, was a young woman of sixteen years. Her ginger hair was tied in a ponytail, she had ocean blue eyes. Her orange jumpsuit, despite its ugliness, highlighted her beautiful curves. She entered the chamber with the psychologist.

A guy of her age had just stepped off the shower, wearing only a towel around him. His hair was a mane of black spiky hair, and his face definitely designated him as an Asian. He looked at them, surprise etched on his face. She suddenly realized the problem, he was only wearing a towel, showing a muscular and scarred body. The heat came to her cheeks as she put her hands on her face but still spacing her fingers to look at the man.

"Oh my, oh my..."

Meanwhile, Psychologist Miyamoto had for a second stood frozen before her face turned beet red.

Little clouds of steam seemed to exit through her ears. Her mouth was wide open and her eyes turned glassy.

Touma was also blushing furiously, as he ran to the wardrobe, taking one of the jumpsuits. Before quickly running back to the bathroom, he violently slammed the door and proceeded to change. He got out mere seconds later to find the Class-D a little rosy and Mishimoto still dazed from her previous sight.

"Mishimoto-san are you okay?" He asked innocently.

He went to her, waving his hand in front of her eyes. She did not react. He then placed his hand on her shoulder and shook her lightly. The reaction was instantaneous, she jumped back while screaming in rapid-fire Japanese. Even Touma, the native speaker barely understood a word of what she was saying. However, he understood that it was in the line of 'Baka' and 'don't touch me'.

Mishimoto finally finished her rant, panting lightly before realizing that she had broken her composure. She coughed lightly before morphing her face into a serious one, she was, however, betrayed by her still rosy cheeks.

"This is D-1405, she will bring you your meals. You are allowed to talk to her like with Dr. Senaviev, Assistant Kels and myself." Explained Mishimoto pointing toward Clara.

"I thought it was another 'Class-D', 7568, that should have brought me my meals." He said, thinking about the tall man he had seen yesterday.

Mishimoto brushed off his question.

"After you finish your meals we are going to test your properties. I will be waiting outside, tell me when you are finished." She said that last part, looking at Clara.

She nodded in response as the psychologist stalked out of the room, closing the metal door behind her.

"Uhm, hello." Said Clara meekly, she had always been a bit shy so talking with a guy whose first impression she had of him was nearly naked, she was a bit flustered.

"H-hello" Replied Touma also sounding meek.

They stood there for a bit before Touma's stomach growled. He blushed once again while Clara laughed a bit. The tension was quickly dispelled.

"You must be hungry, here it's your breakfast." She said as she gave him the platter. It was composed of rice with pieces of chicken, accompanied by two small buttered toasts and orange fruit juice.

"Thanks." Replied Touma as he went to the desk and sat on a chair and began to dig through his meal.

"So" She began the conversation "What's your name?"

"My name is Touma Kamijou, and you?" He answered between two bites.

"I'm Clara McLaren, D-1405, you'll have to call me by my number outside, they don't take too well if we're called by our real name."

"Ah yes, that's weird don't you think? And cruel too."

Clara shrugged.

"At this point, I don't think they actually give a damn."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

Touma kept eating for some moments, an uneasy silence upon them. Clara once again broke it first.

"So you're an SCP, what do you do. If that's not indiscreet.

"Hum, basically I can erase things that are anomalous or supernatural or at least stop someone from using supernatural powers, by touching them with my right hand."

Clara's eyes widened, brimming with wonder, that's interesting she thought.

"Wow, nice."

"Not really, it gets me in a lot of troubles." Replied Touma.

"Like getting captured by the Foundation?"

"Yeah, but also like earlier. My luck is non-existent. I literally have no luck. It always lands me in weird situations."

"What, no, you're messing with me.

"No really... And you? Why are you here?" Touma clasped his hands on his mouth remembering that Class-D were criminals and that question was likely to irritate her.

Clara noticed his apologetic glance, she waved her hands giving him a half smile.

"Don't worry it's not a problem. You told me what you do. I can tell you what I did. I was a babysitter for a rich family in Edinburgh. But one day when I returned home they were all dead, even the kids." She looked at the wall sadly. "They were good people but evidently someone didn't like what they were doing. When the police came, they took me as a suspect. The trial..." She laughed without mirth "... was a joke, my lawyer wasn't even defending me. I took a life sentence. It goes without saying that prison life was not kind to me, so when I was offered the chance to be pardoned if I worked here for a month I took it without thinking twice."

They continued to speak for a good dozen minutes before the door opened. Mishimoto entered the room, looking at Touma's platter. It was empty.

"I told you to tell me when it was finished. Do that again and you will be removed from this assignment. Understood?" Said Mishimoto, glaring at Clara.

Clara could only mutter a quick apology, as she got out of the room. A guard escorted her to her quarters. Mishimoto turned back her glare at him before speaking.

"Follow me, today we will begin with your first tests."

Touma followed her getting out of the cell under the surveillance of two heavily armed guards while wondering what he'd do.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Dr. Senaviev was sitting in a chair, reviewing the psychological evaluation of Touma. He turned to his assistant.

"Kels could you tell me what is the properties of the SCPs we're cross-testing with Mr. Kamijou?"

"Of course sir, let me find the files back." Replied his assistant.

He rummaged through the stack of files on his deck before finally brandishing one, he adjusted his glasses and began reading.

"SCP-871 is a Safe class. It's not humanoid or related to one, it's in transit to a different Site. It's a collection of 237 cakes that... reproduce? Each day each creating another instance. Those instances will also produce an instance, which will also produce an instance and etc... The 237 original cakes will re-appear no matter what. If left unchecked, for eighty days, it could provoke a WK class end-of-the-world scenario. NK being-"

"The impossibility for the world to support life because of self-replicating material, I know. And the second?"

Kels bristled at the rude interruption if only he could be a real researcher, he hated that old prick. However, he managed to keep a calm look instead of an irritated one and continued his lecture.

"SCP-1702, you probably know it, but I guess you want a quick re brief." He stopped to see Senaviev's answer, the old researcher nodded. "SCP-1702 is Euclid class. Basically, it's a species of humanoid anomalous insect, like human bees, who use humans as hives. They will transform the interior of the human body and use it as a hive. There are three types of 1702, 1702-1 'The Queen' is a sapient and intelligent being, capable of speech. But only in an old French dialect. It will lay thirty eggs per day. Then there is 1702-2 which are the males. Their only purpose is breeding the queen, they'll be killed after mating. And finally, 1702-3 which are the workers. They do all the tasks for the hive. They'll kill the males after the breeding and the Queen if she acts outside of her role before creating a new one out of their last victim. Which is currently Dr. Colette. We have taken three workers and three males to use as subjects for the experience, with the agreement of SCP-1702-1."

"Very well, thank you Kels. Could you bring me a coffee now?"

"Yes, sir." Replied Kels. He really wanted to quit that job. He had a Ph.D. in biology, not in coffee making damn it!

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Touma and Mishimoto finally arrived in the experiment room. Before they laid a table, and upon it a three-round chocolate cake in. Touma raised his eyebrows and pointed at the cake.

"Uuuh, what am I supposed to do? Eat it?" He asked turning to Mishimoto, but she had already disappeared.

 _"Approach the SCP at the left and touch_ _it with your right hand, anomaly."_

Came Senaviev's voice from a speaker. He turned his head and saw a window bay with six figures. The glass was specially made so one could only see the frame of the people behind. He assumed that three of them were the staff which took a care of him. However, he did not know the other three.

Carefully he did as he was told, approaching the cake at the left. He stared at it for a moment. It was a very normal cake. Its base was a biscuit, the main part was a chocolate fudge and the top was decorated by little waves of liquid cocoa. He shrugged, before extending his right hand and touching the cake. It vanished with a sound of breaking glass, no trace of the cake's existence present. Not even stains of chocolate on the paper plater, nothing.

Behind the windows, Kels and Senaviev began to write notes while Mishimoto looked interested. The three others spectators, two guards, and the Site Director were surprised, even if one could not see it. The guards' hidden by their visors and the Site Director due to fact that his face was frozen in a bored look. He was smaller than average, with short auburn hair, hazel eyes, and a small brown mustache. Despite this normal appearance, something about him did not seem right. On his throat was a metal piece, which allowed him to talk with his modified voice. He turned his head to face Senaviev.

"Proceed to part two."

The old researcher acknowledged his order and commanded Touma to touch with his left hand the cake on the middle. The young man did as he was told, but nothing happened.

_"Thank you, please now proceed to eat the SCP at the right, without touching it with your right hand. Do not leave a single crumb or piece of the cake."_

Touma took a spoon, on the side of the plate, and started eating the cake. It was good but normal. After he had finished, a guard came into the room, taking the plates and checking the last one. He must have found it satisfactory since he left without a word.

Barely a second later, two guards came pushing two big trolleys with a metallic cover hiding their cargo. When in the middle of the room the two guards swiped their keycards near a detector causing the cover toto open. They folded upwards revealing six humans, they were however not normal. Antennas sprouted from their heads and wings from their back. Their arms and legs were covered by some kind of exoskeleton. They were in an drug induced sleep, they twitched sometime and their faces twisted like they had a bad dream, except for two who were dead, their pale skin and lack of breathing was a giveaway. The first three were all females while the other were males.

_"Please proceed to touch the three SCPs at the left by touching the first with your right hand, the second one with your left hand and the last one with your right."_

Touma once again obeyed the orders. The first insect disappeared in a sound of breaking glass, the pikes, and head holder still intact. Touma took a step back, horrified.

" I... I killed her!" He shouted.

Inside the observation bay the Director nodded and took the microphone. His distorted voice resonated through the room.

_"Mr. Kamijou please continue. Those SCPs are sick and will die in a few say, their sickness will kill them after hours of painful death throes. And even then they will be eaten alive by their comrades, spreading the sickness even more. It is but a mercy to kill them now. Furthermore, they lack any kind of sentience, they are on the same level as a bee. Please continue."_

"B-But can't we cure them?"

Conti rolled his eyes before talking again.

 _"No we have tried for years, I am truly sorry but it is better for them that way. Touch the second with your left arm, the third with your right and repeat with the second batch."_ He said faking sympathy and sorrow.

Mishimoto shifted akwardly, she knew it was all lies. The subjects were all healthy and in the prime of their life, except for the two dead. It was only to push Touma to obey. She was not comfortable with all the lies and death, she was a psychologist not a researcher, and had yet to experience the full darkness of the Foundation.

Touma did as he was told, the second SCPs of each batch were left alive while the other disapeared wit the sound of breaking glass, his face still showed remorse over doing so.

_"Thank you for your cooperation. You will now be returned to your chamber."_

Two guards came to take him back to his cell. Touma sat on his bed, wondering what other experiments they would make him do. While in the observation bay, Kels was ordered to write the report on Touma, and he did so despite his furious envy of bashing Senaviev's head against a wall if only he could get promoted, he could escape this crappy job.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

The Site Director, also known as Site Director Conti was currently going as fast as he could while still looking calm toward his office, his two bodyguards following him. As he finally pushed the secure door of his office he asked the two security officers to stay on guard at the door. He had an important phone call to make. He sat in his chair facing his computer before video calling via secured lines his direct superior.

 **"Yes, this is O5-4, why do you call me, Director Conti? And you can remove your face mask, I know who you are. As well as your voice modulator"** Came the inhuman voice of the O5. If Emilé knew one thing about the O5 it was that he was not human. It's figure, the only thing visible was gaunt with four horns on the top of his head. It looked like small pieces of the O5 detached away from him before flying away from him, however, no change in the O5's morphology could be seen.

Conti did as he was told, removing a mask, which clung to his face. After he removed the different things he had put on his cheeks, front and chin. After it was done, it revealed Emilé's real face, a woman's one with high cheeks. She then removed the metal piece on her throat.

"Overseer, this call is of the utmost importance. We have discovered a potential Thaumiel."

05-4's interest was piqued and silently urged the woman to continue.

"It would seem this anomaly is able to... erase the anomalies it touch, or at least suppress their supernatural properties whilst touching them."

 **"Send me all the files you have on it now. I will discuss this matter with the rest of the Council.** **Thank you for this information, you are dismissed."**

Conti uttered a goodbye before the connection cut, she then proceeded to send an encrypted package to Site-01, the Foundation's headquarters. She leaned back in her seat, sighing. The damn mask was always itching her somewhere. It was nice to take it off. She hoped the O5 had something planned for this, as they always had. Things were about to change in the underworld. Looking at her hand she saw her wedding ring shining brightly, ah she wanted to be with her wife so much.

 **A CERTAIN SC** P

"... And this concludes my report on MTF Rho-19 'Cythereans'."

In a place far from anything, hidden beneath kilometers of earth stood a room. Within it were fourteen people, all sat around a roundtable, which was hollow in the middle. One standing in the empty space. The thirteen people sitting were the O5 council, the thirteen leaders of the Foundation. With hundreds of mysteries surrounding them. The man in the middle bowed before taking his leave, slipping outside. He would be administered amnestics to forget about the O5's looks.

"We only have one last matter before completing today's agenda. We have a new SCP."

The speaker was an old man, nearing his ninety's. Despite this his voice was powerful and charismatic, he held himself with the assurance of a leader. His accent could remind one of the British nobility. Despite his white hair and mustache, his blue eyes were sharp. Before him was the inscription O5-1.

"And what is so important about this SCP? You would not have bothered us about this if he was not important."

Said a man with a Spanish accent and tanned skin. He was the opposite of O5-1, he was clearly in his youth. He was the kind of the man that could be found in a fashion magazine, coupled with a rich and cultured voice he was a perfect ambassador. This man was also known as O5-6. Another O5 coughed, he was a gaunt and tall humanoid, whose body seemed to crumble, while said crumbs flew upwards above him before slowly disintegrating. Despite this, he seemed to not lose any volume. His eyes were white and glowing brightly while his body seemed to absorb all light. He spoke in a deep inhuman voice, it was like multiple men and women speaking together.

"This anomaly is most interesting, according to Site Director Jeanne Conti, Senior Researcher Timur Senaviev and Psychologist Saeko Mishimoto, this SCP is able to erase or neutralize any anomaly he touches with its right hand."

Hushed whispers erupted around the table as the O5s began to realize the potential of this SCP.

"Order! Order!" Roared the wizened voice of O5-1. "I will ask each one of you what you think must be done with this SCP."

He turned his head toward his second, O5-2, silently telling her to begin. O5-2 was a middle eastern woman whose age could not be defined, her face seemed both old and youthful. However, her eyes spoke of great wisdom.

"For now, we should see what this one can do. More data is required."

He then turned to O5-3, a mature woman of Canadian origins, she screamed seriousness, both in clothes and attitude with a conservative business suit and a severe face.

"Use it to neutralize Keter, they're a weight on our shoulders."

O5-1's gaze was now directed at O5-4, the disintegrating shadow.

**"As the Thaumiel specialist, I propose to continue to study its ability more before using it to counter anomalous threats we cannot handle."**

He acknowledged the shadow before turning his head to 05-5's direction. O5-5 was currently busy licking his pawn. Comfortably sprawled on a special seat was a black cat, a mark in form of the SCP logo was formed by white furs on his head. He lifted his head, looking at 05-1 before speaking in a French-accented voice.

"I am the spymaster here, honestly I do not really care about it. I guess he could be useful, my main interest in this is to know from where he is and how he slipt through my fingers."

O5-1 then turned to 05-6, the Spanish man.

"I guess we ought to give it a try, as soon as possible."

The first O5 barely turned his attention to 05-7 that the latter had already begun to speak. He was an old man, maybe older than 05-1, he had long thin white mustaches and hairs. His features betrayed his Asian origins, particularly Chinese.

"I agree with 5, I am the specialist of the normal underworld, not an anomalous specialist."

It was then 05-8's turn to express his/her/its opinion. He/She/It was an inhuman being. This O5 was the most mysterious of them all, no one even knew his/her/its gender, they even knew 05-4's but not his/her/its. It was a being, with twenty small eyes on his face, some behind on his/her/it neck, that looked everywhere, instead of hands he/she/it had tentacles. His/Her/Its mouth was filled with two rows of jagged teeth. Strangely, the being could speak like any human despite the absence of tongue. The being had no hair and the skin color of a salamander.

"We should use it at the first occasion available."

O5-1's attention was then directed at a tall woman in a military uniform, O5-9, her hair was cut in a low buzz. Like 05-3 she exuded the same air of seriousness.

"As the primary military advisor here I recommend to field test it ASAP, sir." She said in a Russian accented voice.

It was then O5- 10's turn to be interrogated. He was a mousy little man dressed in an old plaid jacket, with a white shirt and a bow tie. His eyes were framed by big round glasses. His accent was a Greek one and he was stuttering.

"I-I think that w-we s-s-should first t-test him thouroughl-l-ly, l-let us not f-forget that t-the t-thing we do not und-d-derstand c-can turn on u-us."

O5-1 nodded before turning its head to a metal being whose top was covered by a Plexiglas shell in which a brain was floating in a transparent liquid. The robot itself was squat with six arachnoid legs and four pincers, serving as arms. The SCP logo was engraved upon it. A fedora was haphazardly put on his brain dome while a tie with the flag of the United States was messily tied around its 'neck'. It began to speak with an electronic voice.

_"For now a collection of data is necessary, we will advise later what to do of him. But don't let the commie get a hand on him!"_

The Russian O5 bristled and locked 'eyes' with the robotic Overseer, death glares were exchanged between the two.

O5-1's attention was then turned to a black man with a rebreather around his mouth. His upper throat was also encased in a whizzing metal contraption. One of the man eyes was totally blank while the other was black matching his short frizzy hair.

"Use it as quickly as we can, we have no time to waste." Whizzed the man.

Finally, O5-1 turned to the last person present around the table. He was a young man, the youngest of them all, his green eyes sparkled with audaciousness and youthfulness, standing proudly on his head was an electric blue Mohawk.

"Let's use him to kill 682, simple."

O5-1 nodded, his mind processing the different opinions, after a few minutes he was ready to give his answer.

"I think we have to..."

He was interrupted as the door behind them opened, all tensed, who could come here without asking beforehand? Guards, who had until then, lied in the shadow got out of it and pointed their weapons at the entry, hellbent on protecting the council. Coming from the door were three people. Strangely one was being carried by the other two like he was sitting in a mobile throne or chair. The two carrier finally dropped softly their cargo on the ground, who revealed himself. He was an old white man with a bowler hat, a trench coat with a tie sporting a lit cigar at the edge of his lip.

"Thank you, Jimmy and Tommy." He said with a British accent.

The two men behind nodded before one of them spoke.

"But sir our names are Henry and Archibald."

"Yes, very good Jimmy." replied the strange man, not giving any real attention to his carrier.

O5-1 got up from his chair, before making his way to the strange man. He then shook his hand.

"Hello Administrator, how are you?"

"Ah very good, and you old friend?" Replied the now identified Administrator.

The Administrator, the most powerful man in the SCP Foundation and one of the most powerful in the entire world. The only man able to command the O5 council, the only one possessing a Level Six accreditation.

"Brilliant, sir. What tidings do you bring?"

The Administrator, the most powerful man in the SCP Foundation and one of the most powerful in the entire world. The only man able to command the O5 council, the only one possessing a Level Six accreditation.

"So, dear, O5 Councilmen and women" He began. "I have learned of the existence of a certain new SCP. Which by the report I just read, come from another dimension and has the ability to make the supernatural disappear by just a touch of his hand. Ah, such an exciting development." Said the Administrator, shivering with glee a bit.

The entirety of the O5 council sweatdropped, even those which could not.

"I have already devised what we will do with it." Jovially continued the Administrator grinning like a kid at Christmas. "We will continue for a bit its testing, but in another facility. Site-19, the facility containing the most dangerous SCP in existence, at least those who can be contained. As you all know Site-19 is subject to multiple Containment Breach trimestrial even monthly sometimes. There hasn't been a big containment breach and it will undoubtedly happen soon. A perfect environment for such an anomaly. Dangerous enough to test his limits while still at hands' reach should we need to recover it safe and sound."

"And what about erasing 682 with its ability?" Asked O5-13

"Interaction between this anomaly and 682 are strictly prohibited."

"But Adminis-"

"This is final." Cut the Administrator, despite his smile his eyes were two orbs of ice. "Boy, you are new to this council. Learn that my word is final."

O5-1 coughed in his hand, as the tension slowly dissipated.

"This anomaly has not been given a number and a name, I don't really know why. I will enter it myself in the database." O5-1, looked at a data-pad, scrolling the list of known SCPs. "So we're at 87-"

"0000." Cut the Administrator.

O5-1 looked at the Administrator with confusion

"Pardon sir, what did you say?"

"0000 shall be his number." Said the head of the Foundation, this raised the eyebrows of the council. "Why? Well, it is simple. Because it's cool."

O5-1 put his head in his hand, groaning in frustration. The Administrator and his childish antics had never left him since day one.

"It's also a question of practicality, I mean most of our important SCPs have numbers which are easy to remember. For such an important one 0000 is a good designation. Oh, and we will just say 'zero' not 'zero zero zero zero'. It's not like we really respect the numbers by the order of discovery, am I right? As for its 'nickname', it will be 'Imagine Breaker." Said the Administrator still smiling.

"Can we know why this 'nickname', sir?" Came the question from O5-13

"Because it is already its. I have big plans for zero. Big plans" He said before moving toward the door, his two carriers on his heel, leaving the council confused and scared. "Goodbye, gentlemen and gentlewomen."

"Right, this daily session is over. Good day and night to you." Said O5-1 as he rose from the table.

The other O5s either got up, uttering goodbye or disappeared as their hologram feed was cut.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

In the halls of Site 06-3, a guard met a shoddy figure in a dark corner, out of camera and people sight. The guard handed the figure a small electronic device. The figure, dressed in orange, took it, nodding at the guard who left without a word. The mysterious person took the device near its head, pressing a button.

"What is logic, Sister?" Came a distorted voice.

"The illogic, brother." Replied the figure.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

In another world, a small doll-like figure was watching the sleeping Academy City, upon one of the city's tallest skyscraper. Her pointy witch hat was fluttering in the wind, while her right red eye patch shone in the dark, long blonde hair flew at the wind's will.

"I come to visit you, human, and you are not even here. This will not do. If I have to go to another world, just to talk to you human, then so be it." Spoke Othinus, Magic Goddess, as a flight of crow passed before her.

**A CERTAIN SCP**


	5. Should His Red Right Hand Arm Again?

**A week after the first SCP test on Touma.**

In the wilderness of French Alsace was a camp, disguised by both anomalous and military means. Inside it was more than a hundred people gearing up for combat, strapping on gas-masks and facemask, loading rifles, checking a multitude of vehicles. The camp was bustling with activity. A man in an all-black combat gear, except for a white star on his helmet, indicating the grade of Commander, and the red lenses of his gas-masks, climbed on a makeshift stage, shooting once in the air to get everyone's attention.

"Brothers and Sisters!" He started. "Today we bring Chaos, once again, to this petty Foundation who think it can control us! Today we show them once more that, their puppets we are no more! For we are now free, we must show those wayward imbeciles, the true nature of life, Chaos! We must show them the wrongness of their way, by Chaos! They used us, to do their dark bidding, quivering behind their facilities, while we bled and tainted ourselves! Bringing Chaos to the Foundation outside of their pathetic facilities is not enough, we must bring the fight to them. And today we will attack Site 06-3, a place where they keep humanoid anomalies, we will unite them with us in our quest of Chaos! We are the Chaos Insurgency, and no more, will we bow!" Finished the man, shot in the air, while the crowd roared.

His speech was directed toward Sigmas Operatives, they were the backbones of the Insurgency armed forces. Recruited from 'rescued' Class-D and normal people whose life was ruined by the supernatural due to Foundation activity, or so they thought. Thanks to a basic hate of the Foundation, propaganda and a bit of training they were the perfect soldier for the Insurgency, ready to cause mayhem to destroy the Foundation while being cheap to equip, train and maintain. The activity doubled while the man entered the command tent. Inside were five other people sitting around a table.

"Served them speech F-13 sir, should get them pumped up for the op." He said, talking to a man whose face was covered by a black ballistic mask. Placed in the middle of the mask, was a white marking very similar to the SCP one, except that the arrow pointed out instead of in. The words 'Should Intermittent Vengeance Arm Again His Red Right Hand To Plague Us?' surrounded the logo. Above said logo was another mark, but smaller, it was an arrow pointing up surrounded by a ribbon.

"I know Commander, I heard. Come, take a seat." He invited the commander at the table. "Submit your report." He said looking at all the other persons present.

"Intelligence report, sir." Came the first voice of a young woman. "Our assets inside Site 06-3 managed to get in key position and to inform us of the location of the different High-Value Targets. Especially item India-Bravo-0's location. There are no signs of the agency who would have organized the accident three days ago."

"Military Engineer report, sir." Came a second voice belonging to a middle-aged man. "Our ground and air vehicles are ready to move, we should make a quick in and out."

"Containment Engineer report, sir." Said the voice of an old man. "The Ghost Gas Masks are ready to be used by the Special Operation Squads. The containment for the other entities is also ready."

"Ground Force report, sir." Finally came the last voice, belonging to the Commander. "The Sigma Operatives are ready to move sir, as well as the Special Operatives, I have re-briefed them on both their mission and the use of their anomalous items."

"Very well, it seems that everything is in order. As Orion, a member of the Alpha Group I declare operation, Mountain Twilight officially launched. Creating Logic out of Illogic!" Declared Orion.

"Creating Logic out of Illogic!" Repeated those around the table in a chorus.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Sergeant Wanda Carter of MTF Nu-7, Second Company, Fourth Platoon, Third Fire-team was currently exercising in Site 06-3's gymnasium. She had been granted a 'shore leave' by her superior, however, she had to stay at the Site for psychological evaluation. Site 06-3 boasted some of the Foundation's best psychologist, due to the number of sentient, humanoid entities some of them ex Foundation personnel.

The silver lining of this 'shore leave' was the presence of Touma, whom she had the pleasure to escort during his walks outside his Containment chamber. It was a very nice way to forget all those nightmares that plagued her the night. She always had the same dream, with just minor changes. Each time she was in the forest, surrounded by Team Charlie. They all disappeared with shouts, transforming into a bloody red mist. Meanwhile, someone was getting torn apart by the giant fleshy anomaly, before her eyes. Sometimes it was the green-horn, sometimes her mother or father or her brother, last night it had been Touma's turn to get halved by the monstrosity, his right hand doing nothing. And every time she could smell the blood in the air, and hear the cries of the monster's victims. It lingered for a good moment even after waking up. Obviously, she did not have a good night for a long time. Really it would have been worse if it wasn't for Touma. Poor guy had his arm cut. If she had known the son of a bitch would do that she would have killed him a long time ago.

She got out of the gym sighing before stepping into the shower. She let the clear and hot water run down her curves, chasing the sweat and filth. She sighed, before a curious thought stroke her. What did she feel for Touma? She stopped any action, mulling over this. He was, of course, a good friend, but did she want him to be more than that. He was very charming, handsome and had that attitude about him, the one that screamed hero. It was backed up by his actions, saving her in the forest. As she was reviewing the different qualities of Touma a second thought stroke her. He was sixteen. Sixteen, sixteen... sixteen. He was not even an adult, she was nearly ten years older than him. That was legit pedophilia! But why pedophilia, she wasn't interested in him! She began to bang her head against the wall. What was with her today?

She got out of the shower, drying herself. Taking fresh clothes she exited the shower room, heading to her room. While she would have normally slept in a bunk with her squad-mates, her dreams did not permit it as she screamed while waking up, thus waking up the entire bunk. So it had been decided for both her and the squad that she would sleep in a private room.

She finally reached it, jumping on the bed. She looked to her nightstand which had a plastic, wood and metal unfinished metaphorical representation of happiness. It was a therapy the shrink had prescribed her since she sculpted things out of used materials she had been ordered to do so. She had to represent a positive feeling every week. The first one was peace, it was nearly the 'deadline' even though Mishimoto had assured her that there were no such things in therapy. She was barely halfway through with what she wanted to build. She just couldn't. Her thoughts began to drift as she lazed over her bed. Anyway, building a stupid thing would not help her, right?

As her thoughts drifted, they finally settled on a certain person. She smiled as he got up, taking the half-finished sculptures before sitting at her desk. Taking cleaned cans, cardboard and other bits. She had originally planned to do a little statue of a smiling sun, childish much she thought. After an hour, she had finally finished. It was a representation of her and Touma, although heavily modified, both smiling. It was necessary to modify him in her sculptures, should the shrink learn of her friendship with Touma, she could either get reassigned and be given amnesics or killed. The only thing not modified was his black spiky hair. She looked at the artwork smiling, before putting her head in her hands. It was so childish! She could not show that to the shrink! That would be so much humiliating! She took the sculpture ready to throw it away, before stopping. She should probably keep it, for therapeutical purposes, yeah.

Her train of thought was broken as a knock came from the door, she looked at her watch, fifteen minutes before her appointment with Mishimoto. She hoped that visitor would make it quick. She opened the door. She was surprised to see her psychologist waiting by the door. Mishimoto offered a rare slight smile, just the corner of her lips lifting really.

"Hello Sergeant Carter, how are you feeling?" Greeted the Asian psychologist.

"Good, good and you?" replied Wanda.

"The same, I have come to your room for this psychological session. I was nearby and decided to save you the trouble from walking half the entire site."

"Humm, thanks, come in." Invited Wanda, stepping aside to let Mishimoto enter. "Take a seat."

Mishimoto sat at the desk's chair, remarking the sculptures.

"Ah, so you have finished your representation of happiness, good." She stopped looking at the spiky-haired statue. "Someone you fancy, sergeant?"

Wanda started to stutter and blush while Mishimoto, inwardly, started to laugh. She looked back at the statue.

"This gives me a sensation of déjà-vu. Where have I seen this?" She paused for a bit, while Wanda was getting increasingly worried. Mishimoto finished by shrugging.

"Please take a seat or lie in the bed, we can then begin the session."

And for a good hour, they talked. Talked about Wanda's nightmares, how she was feeling recently. At the end Mishimoto was satisfied, while they were not near a full recovery, Sergeant Carter's mental state was bettering every day.

Mishimoto entered her office, in order to write on her computer the latest psychological report of Carter when she stopped. She frowned, this spiky-haired statue, it reminded her a lot of a certain anomaly. She had stuttered and blushed when asked if she had taken a liking to the represented person. She couldn't be attracted to the anomaly, could she? No, it was probably a coincidence, the only similarities between the anomaly being the hair and the smile. The warm smile he often had when he was talking to someone, it was really a beautiful smile. He had always treated her with respect and politeness despite her cold demeanor and his conditions. She remembered when he had actually thanked her, she who helped in his containment. He was too kind for his own good, even after the attack, despite his refusal to speak about it.

Her thoughts trailed back to their accidental encounter when he just got out of the shower. A faint blush reached her cheeks as she remembered him, and also her reaction. It was such an embarrassment. She had never in her life seen so much skin of a man. She had always been concentrated on her study, her father had made sure of that. This piece of shit. She tried hard not to think about her asshole of a father, focusing back on Tou-SCP-0000. It had been, despite her lack of experience, a very nice sight. However, at the moment she had lost it.

She quietly began to remember precisely how he looked. He had a well-toned stomach and muscled arms. His face was... No! No! No! She had work to do, she had no time to think about hi-its appearance. She caught her head in her hands as she realized she had called it a him. She focused back on her work but still wondering why she did so.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Touma was sitting in his cell remembering the events that took place three days ago.

_He was in his cell, he had just come back from some testing with an anomalous pencil. He was disappointed at the lack of exciting SCP when the door to his cell opened. Assistant Kels entered the room with a duffel bag, he fiddled with the door a bit. He then closed the door, making his way to Touma._

_"Hello Mr. Kamijou, are you alright?"_

_"Hello, I'm good, what are you doing here? I thought testing was over."_

_The portly man laughed._

_"Not quite."_

_The man suddenly jabbed a syringe in Touma's arm._

_"This is a tranquilizer, you will soon sleep."_

_Touma fought against the drug, trying to maintain his eyes opened. Kels looked at him._

_"Not sleeping yet? No matter I have no time to waste."_

_He reached into his bag, pulling out a bone-saw. His face was split by a feral smile._

_"You know, the Foundation, doesn't need you. It needs your arm." He stopped laughing. "I can't believe that old bastard Senaviev didn't think of that. I'm going to cut your arm off and we will use it. I'll finally get the promotion I deserve, I'll even outrank Senaviev!"_

_Kels began to cut Touma's arm, who barely registered the pain due to the tranquilize doubling as an anesthetics. Touma tried feebly to push Kels and tell him to stop, for his own good. Blood splattered on the walls, the bed, and Kels as the flesh and bone gave way to the metal blade. Bangs could be heard from the other side of the door, the security officers began to panic when they realized that the door was locked. Kels ignored it totally. Just before finishing, Kels drew a jar with liquid inside it, he popped the lid before resuming his 'operation'. Just as the arm finally separated from Touma's body he tried to put it in the jar._

_"What am I doing?" Said Kels, his eyes darted everywhere. He remarked Touma, the cut hand and the blood and started to scream. "What is going on? What the fuck! Are... Are you alright?"_

_He tried to help Touma but couldn't as he started to quake in his boots, he dropped the arm as pure terror overwhelmed any emotions he felt, his elation melted like snow before the sun. He backpedaled before tripping and falling on his behind. He tried to crawl away as Touma got up, his eyes hidden by his dark bangs. Kels looked back at Touma as he shouted._

_"Run!'_

_His eyes widened as he saw the cause of his terror, a dragon head had replaced Touma's right arm. The thing roared shaking the room, as shouts could be heard on the other side of the door. A blowtorch began to cut the door, as the security tried to breach the locked door. Kels tried to get up and run to the door but the dragon's jaw closed on him, the transparent teeth began to tear his flesh apart. He was thrown upward yelling by the dragon which caught it back in his mouth, chewing him until he died before spitting him back on the floor. Satisfied the dragon then proceeded to retract in Touma's arm, or what remained of it. The cut arm flew back to his owner, settling to his former place and reattaching itself to Touma, not even leaving a scar. Touma fell on the ground panting. Meanwhile, the door had been finally breached and the security entered, five men led by Wanda stormed the room weapon at the ready before stopping and analyzing the entire room. Blood was splattered nearly everywhere, Kels was unrecognizable, his body seemed to have gone through a shredder, a bloody bone saw could be seen as well as a jar with formaldehyde. Wanda ran to Touma crouching next to him._

_"Are you alright? Medic!" She shouted._

_A nurse came running in the room, examining Touma before shaking his head._

_"He got nothing, lots of blood on him yeah, but no sign of a recent cut, no internal bleeding either."_

_The rest of the day was spent analyzing the crime scene and interrogating Touma. He only answered that cutting his hand was a very bad idea and that it would regenerate. Touma was then cleared and allowed to take today and tomorrow off. Meanwhile, a small emergency council was taking place._

_"Dr. Senaviev, Kels was your assistant! How come you did not remark any strange behavior, such an action proves an unstable mental condition. We can also ask you the same question Psychologist Mishimoto. This situation is unacceptable!" Roared the Site Director._

_"I assure you that even during breakfast, Kels seemed to be his usual self." Replied Senaviev._

_"I concur with Dr. Senaviev, Assistant Kels seemed normal if irritated by his current position in the Foundation." Said Mishimoto._

_"Is it possible that he did this in order to be promoted?" Proposed an advisor._

_"I doubt it, he knew this would only bring him trouble. I think he worked for another agency, probably the Global Occult Coalition, it looks like something they'd do." Countered the second advisor._

_"But how? He was in a secured facility with hundreds of guards, with the ruckus he made he attracted the attention of every guard nearby. He couldn't have gotten out, even with a hostage."_

_Someone knocked at the door._

_"Enter." Said Emilé._

_A scientist entered, his lab coat fluttering behind him. He held a data-pad._

_"We have some development on this mess. First, analysis of Kels' brain, luckily intact, can't say the same for the rest of the body though, has revealed anomalous interference. Trace of a mind-worm, nasty thing, eh. Go straight in your brain, and mess with it. They're sapient and can receive and give orders, very precise when trained. Usually used by the GOC. It disappeared though so I wager that zero's managed to erase him one way or another. Second, the jar that should have been used to contain 0000's arm is actually a teleporter, once something is inside it will disappear. Someone accidentally dropped a pencil in it and it disappeared. We tried with a GPS tracking device and it gave us, as a result, a location near a small military UN outpost in Bangladesh. However, it was soon destroyed."_

_The Site Director narrowed his eyes._

_"The Coalition is on the move already. I thought they would have taken more time, since we have a truce going on. Nevertheless, transfer of SCP-0000 will soon occur. Helmstein" He said turning to the second advisor. "Proceed to screen the personnel that may have interacted with Assistant Kels. We have a mole in there, possibly more. You are all dismissed."_

_Conti laid back in her seat as everyone left, she could not wait to get rid of this SCP, he was too much trouble. She poured herself a glass of whiskey and began to drink, what a headache._

Touma thought about the different people on this site. He had little contact with Mishimoto and Senaviev, they were not rude or disrespectful to him but they were cold and distant. Except for that one time where Mishimoto saw him nearly naked, fukou da, he thought. He hoped that she did not hate him for that. It also reminded him of the second test he did, on those strange insect-human people. He felt disgusted with himself, he could have tried to save them, but if the Foundation, as powerful as it was did not managed to help them, how could he? Unfortunately he did not know the truth.

He though to the second witness of this particular scene, Clara or 1405. She had been very nice to him, they had talked to each other a lot. He rarely felt as much relaxed with her than most other. She was such a bright and kind girl, it helped that she was beautiful too. It was freshening to see someone so relaxed here.

Speaking of relaxed, while Wanda seemed always tense he had noticed that she was always less tense when with him, she was great, and they both could talk for hours about what kind of arcade games they liked. It was too bad that most of the time they both had to restrain themselves since an anomaly and a soldier becoming friend would not be accepted by the Foundation.

The door to his cell opened to reveal Mishimoto. She gestured to him.

"Would you please come with me, Mr. Kamijou?"

He nodded, surprised, what was going on?

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Hey man, how you doing?" Asked Charles as he approached Ali, the engineer taking care of the facility's door control system.

"Good, the wife just called she's preparing a birthday party, the kids will have five years in two days. I managed to get a leave to see them! And you?" Asked Ali.

"Bad." answered Charles looking away sadly.

"Really, what happened man?"

"I'm sorry."

"Wha-"

Ali couldn't finish his sentence as his brain was splattered against the wall. Two guards bursting through the door met the same fate, well-placed shots ending their life. The man rushed to the command console, he smashed the button allowing the opening of all doors in the facility, including the outside's one. He then stuck a USB key into a nearby port. The program activated and managed to block all further orders to close the doors remotely. He placed explosives in the room and as he was hearing the approaching footsteps of a dozen people, he activated the explosives.

The explosives started the alarm system, backed up by the alert for intruders, dozens of trucks, APCs and helicopters had arrived pouring more than a hundred troops in the facility. The guard at the exterior tried to repel the attacker without success and the mere dozen of guards were easily slaughtered. The Insurgency had arrived.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"The attack will soon begin. I will brief you for the last time" Said the Insurgency Commander, talking to five persons in white-grey combat gear via a screen. They had world war two masks at their hips and were armed and armored to the teeth. "You will enter the facility with the help of the Sigmas. When inside you will hurry to the Class-D detention center, you must be quick, our best agent is there. When you arrive you will retrieve Agent Hex, give her her gear, then she will take command of the squad, she knows what to do. You will recognize her thanks to this, you will say 'Tainted men, what reap ye?' and she will answer 'Freedom'. Our ETA is five minutes. Good luck." Finished the Commander saluting.

The four members of the squad designated 'Cinereous' sat in the helicopter. They all wore a balaclava, hiding their faces and a helmet. The tallest one codenamed "Templar" was sporting a heavy machine-gun coupled with heavy bulletproof padding over his body, his head was protected and iron and flak blocky helmet. The second man named "Sicarius" was the smallest of them, in his arms was snuggled a compact sniper rifle, that could be both used as a long range sniper or a close combat armor piercing rifle, instead of helmet he had a black beanie. The third one was tall and named "Boomer", his belt was covered by various explosive devices as well as his backpack, he sported a brand new assault rifle. The fourth one, was codenamed "Vulkain", on his back rested a small tank containing a mix of oil and gasoline, the tank was bulletproof with a cord connecting it to a flamethrower, he was also equipped with an SMG. The last one was a man named "Sarge", as his nickname suggested he was the squad leader and was equipped with a shotgun. As they arrived they traded jokes but stopped as the door opened, the telltale sound of gunfire and shouts announcing the beginning of the battle. They ran from the heli, which took off roaring.

The squad ran to the big open door, spraying the few unlucky guards present with bullets, they pitifully tried to return fire only to be killed seconds later. They entered a large hangar with many land vehicles, some of the Sigmas stopped and destroyed or sabotaged the vehicles. They then sprinted to another door, finally entering the facility, the flood of Insurgency soldiers opening the way. Few were cut down by the Foundation's guards, the narrow corridor allowing them to fight on a more even ground. They were soon dispatched by fragmentation grenades and the raid carried on.

The Sigmas continued toward the barracks, the containment chambers and the different parts of the facility. Two squads of Special Forces ran to the Site Director's office to intercept him before he got to the bunker. The squad stopped and strapped their world war two gas-masks. As they put it on, their bodies faded becoming semi-transparent and a strange mist escaping their breathers. Squad Cinereous made their way to the D prison block, killing the few guards in their way, the strange mist participated in the slaughter, killing in a matter of second. Sometimes their ghostly and transparent appearance managed to hide them from distracted guards. They finally arrived at their destination.

A dozen guards had assembled the fifty D-Class present and were ready to execute them. Cinereous tried to take them by surprise but the shocked gasp of a stupid Class-D brought the guards' attention to them. The guards tried to spray Cinereous squad who immediately jumped to cover. Each side hiding behind various solid covers began to exchange bullets. The Insurgency soldiers despite a superior training and equipment were pinned by the more numerous guards, each of their submachine gun spitting fifteen bullets by second. The operatives were pinned, too far away for their gas to work. The operatives tried to return fire with no success, they couldn't even poke a millimeter of their heads out of cover. However, the tide changed when a female Class-D jumped on the nearest officer and with dexterity knocked his weapon out of his hand before taking his handgun and began shooting at the guards while holding her victim as a mobile shield. The guards hesitated to fire, their comrade struggling and begging to not shoot, this proved to be their undoing. Thanks to the distraction, the operatives killed the few guards still pinning them, before advancing. The other guards were killed by the surgical shots of the female Class-D and others were simply mauled to death by the freed Class-D.

Cinereous squad came to meet the numerous Class-D, unstrapping their gas-masks to avoid killing them, the leader uttered the password.

"Tainted man, what reap ye?"

"Freedom." Answered the voice of the woman responsible for their victory.

She had ginger hair and the serial number 1045 on her chest.

"Now give me my gear soldier."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

The two squads of Special Forces 'Alizarin' and 'Byzantine' and weapon specialist 'Tachanka' accompanied the Commander to the Site Director's office. They were running in order to intercept the Director before he entered the bunker. They had the equipment to deal with a panic room, even anomalous but not the safety bunker.

They finally came to a corridor, after a turn, just before the Director's office. More than twenty security officers were present, all behind makeshift but solid cover. They flash banged the first row of guards, killing them before taking cover behind the metal crates, serving as cover. They were pinned as a hail of fire answered their attack. Tachanka for his part stayed out of the fight, his massive frame would have been unable to hide him. They shot back with pinpoint accuracy, managing to down a few guards, however, reinforcements, a dozen of guards with riot control equipment had arrived. They advanced as one forming a wall of iron shields, allowing the others to advance behind them and take pot shots with shotguns. A man from squad Alizarin died, his face shredded by the 12 Gauge. However, what the Foundation had not realized were the anomalous objects their enemies wore. The Ghost Gas Masks, exuded a mist of poisonous gas around them, killing anyone not wearing the same kind of mask in twenty seconds. The advancing troops despite their gas-masks began to cough as they neared the Special Forces. They stopped advancing, breaking the shield wall, allowing Tachanka to finally use his weapon.

Tachanka was wearing a special uniform with thick plates of metal and Kevlar, he was a giant reaching two meters. In his hand rested a Gatling gun, normally found on helicopters. The machine started roaring before unleashing a deadly rain of lead to the distracted troops, shredding them. Meanwhile, the giant was laughing insanely, this caused a few to run, only to be reaped by the Gatling. The other guards who had gotten out of cover were killed too. In a matter of seconds, the corridor was emptied and the Kill Team advanced.

They finally came to the Director's office, they blew up the door and stormed the large room. The Director was present with his two bodyguards, both of them managed to kill one of the operatives before being slaughtered themselves. The Commander smugly approached the small Director.

"Now, Director it's time for you to-'

He did not finish his phrase as the Director took his arm, pulled him toward him, knocked his weapon and took his handgun pointing it at his face. He tried to struggle but the Director had a vicious grip on him. The guns of all the Special Operatives, even Tachanka's minigun, were pointed at them, however, a voice came from their radio. 'Interview' it said. One of the soldiers took in his backpack a laptop, slowly to not risk the Commander's life. Slowly he opened it and turned it to face the Director.

The masked face of Orion appeared on the screen.

"Ah Director Conti" He paused looking at the Commander. "Commander Von Roterhaken, you look like a fool from where I am."

"Sir, please..."

"Stop your attack or I kill him." Growled the Director menacingly, his distorted voice amplifying the effect.

Orion began to laugh.

"Oh, old friend don't you recognize me? Me the Hunter?"

The Director's eyes widened.

"Orion? You were supposed to be dead! The house where you were was blasted by Alpha-1."

"You should fire them, they're bad at their jobs, not like me. And speaking of people bad at their jobs, Lieutenant, if you would."

"Yes, sir." Replied the Lieutenant, he aimed his handgun and shot the Commander in the head.

Conti dropped the now useless hostage on the ground with a look of disgust.

"He was a traitor, arrogant and careless. Now old friend, remove that mask of yours."

Conti did as he was told, he had nothing to lose now incurring further anger from Orion would be unwise. His mask came off as well as the different face modifier hidden beneath it. She finally removed the voice modulator.

"Now let's talk." Said Orion, his smug smile unseen but felt.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Mishimoto and Touma were walking in the facility, they were at the farthest from the Site's entry. They had been walking silently throughout the Containment Chambers before arriving at the psychologist's office, a large room decorated with motivational and therapeutical posters. It was located here due to the view it offered behind camouflaged windows, it was used as a calming effect on the different visitors, the lush forests and mountains of the French-German border offering a beautiful panorama. During their walk, Touma's lack of luck nearly got him gunned down by the guards due to him accidentally slapping one causing an instant reaction from the guard and his buddies. The second accident was a pipe rupturing near Touma, nearly dousing him in hot lethal steam. Mishimoto started recounting all the freak accident surrounding Touma and started to wander if Touma's claim about being the unluckiest person on earth was true.

Mishimoto sat at her desk, inviting Touma to do the same on the opposite chair.

"I made you come here to inform you that you will be moved to another facility tomorrow. I must tell you this beforehand so you can prepare yourself. And to answer the question you were going to ask, I do so because Site-19 is the most dangerous site of the SCP Foundation. I do not know the detail but I know that it used to be a facility for safe and Euclid class SCP, Euclid meaning able to escape from containment, a lot of them are dangerous or violent. However, recently Site-19 has been transformed into the largest and most well protected and secured of the known facilities. It houses several dangerous SCPs, classed Keter meaning that they often escape containment. They cause a lot of victims, Site-19 personnel is the best trained and paid, to my knowledge."

She stopped, looking intensely into Touma's eyes.

"To be honest I think the O5s, our leaders, put you here to test you. It will be dangerous, but you can count on me to help you as your psychologist."

"Thank you. But why do you do say all of this to me? Won't you get punished?"

She smiled, how sweet.

"I do this because, despite your position, you are maybe the person who treated me the best. I wish to repay you the favor. As for me getting punished, I can assure you that the E-"

She was stopped as an alarm began to blare through the facility. Red lights illuminated the corridors and a male foreboding voice resonated through the facility.

" **A rival agency has entered the facility. All nonsecurity personnel is to hide in the safety bunker. Sentient, humanoid and nonviolent SCPS are to be brought to the bunker. All SCPs are to stay in their containment chamber until they are collected by Foundation personnel. This is not an exercise, I repeat this is not an exercise."**

**A CERTAIN SCP**


	6. Containment Breach and Catfight

The alarms blared all over Site 06-3, the sounds of shouts and running could be heard. The voice kept repeating the same message. Mishimoto got up, grabbed Touma's hand and started running out of the room before bolting to the safety bunker. Next, to them dozens of people were in the same predicament, guards rushed, weapons drawn to the front line the orders given through the radio guiding them.

"What's happening?" Asked Touma.

"Our enemies managed to get in the base, we have to go to the bunker, it's the safest place in the facility, it's in the middle of it. Come on, we need to get there quicker."

They passed by opened containment chamber where some SCPs were poking their heads out, most were taken by the personnel to be brought to the bunker. The normally white walls were red due to the alarm lights, the more they neared the bunker, the more they heard the sound of gunfights and explosions.

As they were running, they stopped when an explosion occurred in the corridor they were about to take, the wall exploded, showing three Insurgency soldier who began screaming and rushed toward the guards. A bloody and messy melee fight ensued with Foundation and Insurgency reinforcements pouring and shooting at each other, some jumped on each other with feral battle cry baring knives or their rifle's butt. Grenades went off at barely a dozen centimeters of the soldier's emplacement, blood and organic matter splattered against the wall some landing on screaming unarmed peoples. Some stray bullets managed to hit unfortunate personnels but most SCPs were unscathed if scared.

Mishimoto, already panting from an unusually long run, pulled Touma towards her.

"Come here, there's another way."

 **"The Site is currently experiencing Safe, Euclid and Keter Class Containment Breach. Protocol Alpha-11 is activated. All nonsecurity personnel is to go to the safety bunker. All SCPs are ordered to be taken into custody by Foundation agents or to stay in their Containment Chambers. Failure to comply will result in heavy punishment once the crisis is resolved."** Blared the voice from the PA system.

She guided him through the maze that was the Site taking sharp turns until, at a moment, something jumped from the shadows and grabbed her throat. Mishimoto was thrown against the floor and Touma stumbled before re-balancing himself. He looked toward the aggressor, she was a young woman with the darkest skin he had ever seen, her right shoulder was however stark white, like snow, her head was shaved and she wore a bright orange jumpsuit, which stopped above her breast, with the marking SCP-029 upon it. She was currently strangling Mishimoto who was weakly struggling against her iron grip. Touma shouted at her to stop, baring his fist, she simply turned to look at him and suddenly... nothing. This girl... no not girl... she was much more... she was a goddess! It was her, the one he always tried to find, it was her the true goddess of this world! The Daughter of Darkness! Kali Yuga! He began to smile beatifically, she was the only one worth of adoration, she had to be served, yes! He had to help her end the world! This thought which would have two seconds ago disgusted him now became his obsession.

"What must I do, Daughter of Darkness?" He questioned obediently.

She smirked, another pet at her disposal, and this one was no normal human. She would have normally strangled him, but after the loss of her servants, she had to acquire new ones. He was an anomaly. She sensed something dreadful in him, something powerful, if she could use him then nothing could stop her! Yes, she ignored what it was for now, but soon she would know.

"Strangle her, my slave." She addressed her now, faithful servant.

He approached her slowly and bent near Mishimoto.

"Touma, don't do it! She is controlling you! Snap out of it, use your hand." She pleaded pitifully.

Touma laughed darkly, he was doing his mistress' will and nothing would stop him. Gleefully he cracked his hand, oh he will use his hand, even both. The Daughter of shadow got up and let Touma straddle Mishimoto in order to strangle her. Her hands came to pat Touma's head like a master would do to an obedient pet. Mishimoto started to struggle even more, second to the thoughts of survival was the thought of this woman. Touching Touma like he was some kind of pet, who does she think she is? She was nothing but a filthy mass murdering anomaly, she did not deserve someone like Touma. Speaking of the warm boy on top of her, he was looking at her with murdering glee, an insane smirk had replaced his friendly smile. So this is how she would die, strangled by an anomaly she had started to appreciate. Life was a bitch.

However, Touma's adoration for Kali Yuga soon became the two Asian's way out. In his adoration, Touma rubbed the spot where her hand had touched him like it was a sacred spot. Doing this, he touched his cranium. With a sound of breaking glass, the spell was lifted and Touma found himself straddling the attractive young researcher, his eyes were cleared of any murderous intent and he began blushing at his current predicament. The Daughter was currently not looking as she had managed to catch another prey and was currently strangling a woman who was kicking and screaming for all she was worth. Touma's instinct kicked and he rushed to 029, intent to stop her. She turned her head and her eyes widened as she saw her pet now rushing at her, his fist raised. As he closed the gap he launched his fist forward to strike her down. She cached his hand and grinned maniacally. Both did not notice the black skin seemed to tone down to a stark white shade

"I knew you were special, but in the end, you will serve me."

She reinforced her aura, the one she used to subjugate males to do her bidding. Her brows scrunched in frustration as nothing happened. Furthermore she felt weaker when he was touching her, why? Touma merely tried to knee her in the face, as she was below him but used her other hand to block it and jumped back. Letting the woman go, who ran as fast as she could. Both fighters took their respective stances, Touma like a boxer while 029's stance was more lithe, reminding one of Asian martial arts, with one hand forward and the other behind it and slightly crouched. They both judged each other.

"Why won't you fall, like the others?" Hissed Kali Yuga, annoyed.

"Let's say I'm unlucky. Now, I don't want to hurt you, especially a pretty girl like you. Surrender." Said Touma with an awkward smile.

Kali Yuga only response was a cocky smile. And they rushed at each other. Touma launched his right fist toward her but was intercepted by Kali's own hand. She twisted and jumped in mid-air delivering powerful sidekick which was dodged. She frowned, her reaction time was fine when he was not touching her but weakened when touched, she also noticed with shock that her black skin had begun to fade. She barely moved to dodge Touma's kick to her stomach before punching him in the face, she kept pounding Touma's face with her fist for two seconds before taking a kick to the stomach, which did not faze her in the slightest. She took his leg and twisted it, he fell to the floor but managed to stop his fall and deliver two kicks to Kali's face. Once again she barely registered the hits and turned around, taking Touma's leg over her shoulder before throwing him on the ground once again by making him pass over her shoulder. He hit the floor with a dull thud, but he managed to get back up and put his guard up once more.

A shot resonated behind, hitting the space behind Kali's feet. Mishimoto had drawn her pistol and had fired a warning shot. She fired a second time, but this time Kali managed to dodge the bullet with ease. Kali's face twisted with a feral look, how dared the wench interrupt her fight. Touma took the advantage to close the gap, took hold of her arm with his left and landed a brutal uppercut, the woman gasped as she was thrown backward, never in her life had someone managed to hurt her so much with but a punch. Touma looked surprised, quickly he made the connection she was weaker when he was touching her with his right hand, thus he had to keep hitting her with his right hand. He grinned, well he had done that before. But first.

"Mishimoto-san run! I will find you later!"

"But..." protested the woman, worried.

"Go! I'll hold her back! Save yourself!"

This touched something inside Mishimoto and she ran.

"Now that we are alone, why don't you give up?" Asked Touma.

"Give up!?" Roared the woman. "I am a goddess and you will be my greatest offering! I will strangle the life out of you, and feast on your suffering!"

"If you think you can kill people because you think you are a goddess, I'll have to break that shitty illusion of yours!" Roared back Touma.

They ran at each other, Kali jumped onto the wall, and wall-run before spinning and trying to kick Touma's head. He ducked, took hold of her leg and slammed her to the ground, brutally. She coughed as the air was knocked out of her, she was so weakened when he touched her, even through her clothes. She managed to kick him to get back up, she back-flipped over him, without momentum and landed behind him, kicked him in the butt, making him fall on the ground. He turned as she was jumping with both feet on him, he rolled out of the way and grabbed her leg and pulled it under her, she lost her balance a bit but fell when he struck her with an open palm. On her back she caught herself with her hands before viciously kicking Touma in the head, he, however, did not let go of her leg that he held with his right hand. He got up but she managed to free herself by twisting herself.

She did not stop and kept assaulting Touma with rapid kicks he dodged, he extended himself, in order to punch her face. She crouched low and delivered a vicious uppercut at his most sensitive part, right in the crotch. He flew backward with a pained gasp. She did not let him any rest as she kept up her assault, launching a flurry of fists and open palms. Despite the pain, Touma managed to catch her right hand with his, surprising 029. He pulled her close and suckered punch her face, sending her sprawling on the ground. She did not move. Touma went to her side, trying to check her pulse.

As he was crouching near her, she jumped and started to strangle him, tackling him to the ground. Her hands tightening around his throat, she began to laugh. Touma managed to grip her arm with his right hand, while this weakened 029, she was still strong enough to strangle him. A veil of darkness began to descend on Touma's eyes as the lack of oxygen started to slowly kill him. However, the more he kept his hand on 029's skin the more her skin became stark white. She began to cry in pain and released Touma, her body white, except for her legs. Taking advantage of the situation Touma freed himself before uppercutting her in the face, and he finally knocked her out with a well placed strong punch to the side of her head. She fell limply like a rag doll, her breath weak. She was definitely unconscious.

Touma looked around him, where was the bunker? There was a panel indicating toward the right. He got up and prepared to go toward it but he stopped as a cry of terror was heard from the other side. Determined, he went to the origin of the shout running. He had people to help.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Chief of Security Materazzi was currently in the command post, near the armory, directing the different units of security to quell the raid. It was bad, Site 06-3 had exactly one hundred and fifty-three men and women in its security, only ninety were battle ready, there was also that squad from NU-7 and the five Containment Specialists, who were elite soldiers. They had already lost more than forty security officers in minutes. The Insurgency for their part, had according to report one hundred and eighty troops as well as three Special Operation Squads. Even worse some of their agents were moles and had turned against them. The Foundation was for now holding the line due to the tightness of the corridor, which helped to corral the hostiles. The front line was for now mostly at the border of the armory and the barracks, the first medical ward had been taken but the second was deep in Foundation territory. The armory was the main theater of battle with the guards being outnumbered five to one, they, however, had the help of the heavy machine gun stationed there and were for now holding the position. The barracks was defended by unprepared agents but the elite of Nu-7 was helping them, as such they were still a match for the numerous Sigmas.

At least they had managed to emit a distress signal with Level 1 encryption, it could be picked up by any Foundation assets and could be retransmitted to any military forces the Foundation or its allies had. Hopefully, reinforcements would quickly come.

He rubbed his large beard, the situation was dire and the enemy had already penetrated the Containment Zone and light skirmishes were erupting everywhere in this zone with Containment Specialists and guards defending scientists and SCPs. He jerked his head as an alert attracted his attention, the squad at the D-Block had been wiped out and the Class-D armed. Fuck. That was fifty-five enemies more, ready to strike the defenders from another angle.

The bad news kept piling up as a second alert informed him that the Director's office had been breached, a video feed opened to show the Director surrounded by multiple hostiles, corpses lied on the ground.

"Team Uniform, Zulu, India! With me!" He ordered through the comms, rushing out of the room. Fifteen guards followed him. "We need to rescue the Director."

They came to the front line where both sides were stuck in a battle of attrition. Materazzi took out his revolver, a .44 Magnum and head shotted two soldiers in an instant. One of the guards behind him took aim with a grenade launcher and pulled the trigger. A 40mm fragmentation grenade exploded in the middle of the enemy troops. The group rushed to the disorganized attackers and finished them with well-placed shots. The front line advanced in favor of the Foundation. They managed to kill enough troops and gain enough ground to connect the armory's front and the barracks', creating one big front and shifting the balance in their favor, however, the group lost five men doing so and ten other guards were killed. The group, now eleven, kept running for the Site Director's office. They met little resistance.

Upon reaching the last corridor they witnessed the devastation brought by the Insurgency SpecOps. Three dozens of corpses littered the ground and some corpses were more akin to Swiss cheese than a human. Materazzi crouched and examined a body, the light shining on his bald head.

"This man was killed by the Ghost Mist." He said remarking blue and green hues on the corpse's throat. "Stay two meter away from those guys or you will die."

He could not continue his explanation as a guard's head exploded showering some in gore. They all jumped to cover as five men in gray-white fatigues made their apparition. They were ghostly in appearance, one could see what was behind them. However, the bullets they fired were still lethal. Materazzi swore as he jumped behind a cover and began taking pot-shots at the giant wielding a mini-gun. This was going to be tough.

**A CERTAIN SCP.**

"Sir, we have hostile approaching." Informed the Lieutenant, talking to Orion. "Orders?"

"Take care of them." Answered Orion nonchalant. "Stay here Lieutenant. Hold the laptop."

The Lieutenant nodded and gestured his men to go. He took the laptop from its carrier's hands. Across him was Jeanne Conti, the Site Director, handcuffed to a chair. She narrowed her eyes.

"You can stop playing your little game, Orion. You know I won't talk."

"Can't old friends talk to one another?" Replied Orion. "After all, I was your best man."

"Nothing but an error, traitor, like your entire life."

Orion tsked. And shook his head as if saddened.

"How rude, you wound me. But I wanted to ask you, how are you?"

Conti raised her eyebrows; The sound of gunfire and the situation they were in made this question out of place.

"I have never felt so good." She said sarcastically.

"No need to be sassy, my dear. But to answer my own question, I know that you are not okay. Even before you found yourself in the situation you currently are. I know you are tired of this job, I know you start to doubt what you are doing."

A little traitorous spark of fear was lit in Conti's heart.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Oh, don't play innocent with me. I know you. Better than you know me."

Outside the sound of gunfire had started to dim but was still present.

"I can give you one thing. A place among us, many knows of your talents as both an administrator and a researcher. I can assure you that should you c-"

"I will never join with your little band of Madmen. You play with what is greater than you!"

Orion had a mirthless laugh.

"Say those who jail what they do not understand. We at least truly defend Humanity, instead of cowardly hiding. We both know He will soon come. And that Humanity must be prepared to defeat Him. Whatever you think you do is only slowing Him down for what is for Him a simple batting of the eye. We need to take direct action."

"I prefer dying! You are nothing but fools and you will be put down like the mad dogs you are." Proclaimed Conti, her little finger rubbing her wedding ring.

"Do not worry, my dear you will not die." He sighed. "I hate coming to this but if you won't follow us of your own volition then you will do it with a certain... _help._ "

She knew what it meant and froze. Orion remarked her rubbing her ring and smiled.

"Do not worry about Alice, Jeanne. You won't even remember her." Said Orion in a reassuring tone.

She screamed.

"Sedate her and take her away." Ordered Orion as the gunfight in the background finally died. Squad Alizarin and Byzantine had finally vanquished the would-be rescuer, each losing one man. As the limp body of Conti was carried by Tachanka, a fatally wounded Materazzi could do nothing as he watched her being taken away, the feeling of failure even more potent than his pain. The cold barrel of his own revolver was pressed against his head, wielded by a foreign hand. A bang filled the corridor and he was no more.

"Nice gun." Commented the Lieutenant leaving behind him the slaughter of nearly fifty men.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

D-1405, or Agent Hex, named Clara McLaren for the time of this operation was finishing gearing up. She had slung a bulletproof vest over her orange jumpsuit, holstered a pistol, a bowie knife and an SMG. She finally strapped her Ghost Gas Mask, after thoroughly verifying that it was not defective, it was a matter of life or death. Far behind her and squad Cinereous were fifty Class-D who were being armed by the Insurgency, some took the weapons of their former captors.

"Alright boys, we have to find and extract Item India-Bravo-0, also known as SCP-0000 as fast as possible. According to one of our informant, it was last seen in the psych ward, if we hurry we can intercept it before it reaches the bunker. No time to waste, let's move."

The Insurgency elite squad began to race to the Containment Zone, it was thankfully (or unfortunately) close to it. They did not meet anyone during their run until they stumbled onto a strange scene. Less than a dozen insurgency soldiers were running toward them, throwing scared looks behind them. They did not stop when ordered by Clara and took a side corridor. From behind them came the reason of their fright. A hundred or so of strange humanoids were running toward them. They were women with wings, antennas, and chitin on their limbs, they were SCP 1702-2, workers and warriors of this supernatural race of humanoid insects. Their feral expression and the furious buzzing of their wings indicated their hostility.

Calmly Clara raised her fist, prompting the squad to stop. They had no time to waste, however. Normally they would have ignored those anomalies but they were in the middle of the way and were a low priority target.

"Fire at will."

As soon as the order was given a rain of bullets showered the enraged anomalies, who fell on the ground by droves. One could have let them approach and die from the toxic gas they emitted, however, it took twenty-second for the gas to kill someone, enough time to be torn apart by the horde of anomalies. Furthermore, the effect of the gas could be different on those insects, thus a ranged quick elimination was better.

"Frag'em."

Five grenades landed in the mass of eminences blowing them apart. At least half of the swarm had been exterminated. Lead rained once more on the anomalies tearing them apart. Despite this, they managed to gain some terrain, their fearless attitude proving itself a challenge for the Special Operatives.

"Pest Control!" Came the order from Clara.

Vulkain took out his flamethrower while Boomer threw incendiary explosives at the side of the swarm. The others retreated behind the flamethrower wielder. As soon as the incendiary exploded, Vulakin stepped forward, the enemy was at a perfect range. He pulled the trigger and a tongue of fire appeared from the muzzle, burning the unfortunate insects. They screamed in pain as the fire devoured their body, their hive-mind amplifying the pain. Vulkain turned left to right, right to left, dousing the poor souls. Screaming figures could be seen through the flames, running everywhere trying to extinguish. In the end, all fell to the ground writhing as the fire consumed their bodies, ending their lives.

The tide of insect soon stopped, as they were all left on the ground. Most had finally been granted the release of death but some had survived, their burn inflicting unimaginable pain, others were still burning and jerking. The scent of burned flesh filled the air. Smoke filled the corridor as the squad Cinereous advanced in the corridor, unopposed., their mask protecting them from the smoke as the fires died. They stepped on the burnt corpse, emotionless.

After passing the scene of slaughter, they came to the enormous containment chamber of SCP-1702. It was at least two hundred and fifty-meter square. The entire area was covered with human-sized hives, near the entry was the Queen, some workers, and breeders. The Queen was a giant cross of insect and human of over two meters, she had hair the color of honey and fair features, her right shoulder had a bullet wound. Multiple Sigma operatives and a Containment Engineer were sprawled on the floor, or at least what remained of it, they were currently being eaten by SCP 1702-2s. At the sight of the SpecOps squad, the workers formed a tight cluster around the Queen who by her face looked positively terrified. It was evident that the Insurgency had tried to capture the queen but failed spectacularly. The breeders, them, totally ignored the squad and kept walking around with an absent look on their faces.

" _Merci! Merci! Epharmiez nos. Nos no vos voillons pas de mal."_ Pleaded the Queen in ancient French.

Clara gestured to continue, no time to waste. As they left, the Queen looked relieved.

" _Dex mercit."_

They kept advancing in the corridors of the Site, the sound of gunfire becoming more and more distant. The corridors became shadowy. The atmosphere suddenly became darker, for no apparent reason as they entered a large crossroad, it was big enough to fit four or fives cars.

"Contact!" Shouted Templar waving his weapon.

However, there was no one. Clara glared at the man.

"Keep going."

"I'm sure I saw something."

"Must be your imagination." Said Sarge.

"Did you take an arrow in the knee?" Joked Boomer, nobody laughed, not understanding the reference. He sighed.

Clara grew worried, she could feel multiple unseen presences. Suddenly as they were walking, shrill cries were heard. The squad stopped pointing their guns at the source however the cries were repeated and soon the cry came from every direction. The squad came back to back, watching every angle. As they did this, their vision became blurry before coming back to normal. They began to feel tired, their movement more sluggish.

Suddenly their weapons were knocked from their hands, bony hands could be felt on their bodies as they were attacked. Cinereous struggled and managed to throw back their assailants, only for them to come back more numerous. Clara screamed as thin corpses pressed on her. Despite their training the invisible things were however, too many and the operatives own new weakness caused them to get pinned to the ground. Invisible bony hands began to creep on their bodies, their uniform began to be torn by an unseen force. And their masks removed and thrown.

Clara could only despair as the end was coming, she could feel teeth and claws near her ready to pierce her, her vision turned black. And then the unexpected happened.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Wanda had just finished her training at the shooting range when the alarm began to blare throughout the compound. She rushed to her rooms, that's where all her equipment was, security officers and agents were often advised to keep a weapon and ammo in their barracks. She threw a bulletproof vest on her, took some magazines and her trench knife. She bolted out of the room, running toward the Containment Zone, she had to help Touma out of that mess. The attack three days ago and now that, it was highly probable that they were after him. As she turned to the left entering a corridor she fell nose to nose with two Insurgency soldiers. She took out her trench knife in a fluid motion and cut the first man's throat before he could react, the second man was killed by a thrown knife in his head. She picked up the knife from the man's orbit cleaning the blood. The sound of gunfire and explosion was nearby, she raced toward it only to find the Site's guard and the raider in a stalemate, each firing from covers without really any effect.

She found her squad in the middle of the mess, they welcomed her with relief, finally, their squad leader was here.

"We have to pierce through! Any ideas?" Asked Wanda.

"They outnumber us, we should stay and defend here, not rush ahead."

"No we have to move, if we stay here we will lose in a war of attrition. Throw one grenade of each type each, frag, smoke, flash I don't care, just throw."

Soon after the corridor was filled with smoke, illuminated by the flash of the stun grenades and damaged by the fragmentation grenades. The Insurgency abandoned their position briefly before the explosion, allowing the Foundation guards to mow some of them down. When all grenade had exploded, they rushed forwards, meeting the Insurgents in a bloody melee, knives were drawn and some rifle fired at point blank. Screams of pain and of rage could be heard. 'For the Foundation!', 'Chaos!' or 'Death to the Foundation!' could be heard in the corridor. Wanda ducked as a large kukri slashed the air where she was a second ago before springing up and piercing the man's heart with her knife. Two more Insurgency soldiers fell to her expert knife-woman ship. A machine-gun began to fire blindly in the corridor, wielded by a panicked Sigma, it reaped both friend and foe. Wanda fell to the ground in a prone position before taking pot shots with her handgun toward the direction of the blind fire. It seems it was a success as a cry of pain was heard and the shooting stopped.

In the tight corridor, Wanda was fighting blindly, but it was better, the Foundation forces were vastly outnumbered and most of the fighting was in-fight between confused Insurgents. The well trained and equipped guards fared much better than their counterpart and soon the skirmish was won. The smoke finally cleared and the Foundation troop advanced. The corridor was filled with the gruesome sight of the close quarter combat, it was more akin to a medieval battlefield than a modern one. One of the most bizarre sights was the one of two insurgents soldiers stabbing each other while being stabbed in the back by Foundation agents, themselves stabbed by dead Insurgents.

Unknowingly Wanda has perfectly timed her attack with Materazzi's own, allowing the armory and barracks front to be connected, allowing the Foundation a better chance at fighting back. But Wanda wasn't done yet. She ordered her team to stay and help the guard, they'll need it. She managed to leave before the second wave of Insurgents arrived, taking side corridors she finally arrived at the Containment Zone, she rushed to Touma's cell but on the way she encountered Mishimoto.

"Do you know where is Touma?" She asked, not realizing she used his first name.

"Yes, he was fighting 029, that way a-"

Wanda did not hear what Mishimoto was saying as she raced to where she indicated. After a few encounters with unlucky Insurgency soldiers, who died before they could even realize what was happening, and a knocked out 029 whom she cuffed. She arrived at a crossroad and the sight before her made her twitch her left eye violently.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Touma was currently running to the place where he heard the cry, as he arrived he saw a female scientist with a smoking handgun in her hand, a soldier was sprawled on the ground, a hole in his head visible. The scientist was currently on the ground, her back to the wall, a large pool of blood was forming at her feet. She noticed him and smiled weakly and gestured him to come closer.

Touma knelt panicked.

"Are you ok-"

He did not finish his sentence as the woman opened her mouth and a black mist came out of it. The black mist entered Touma's opened mouth and began to make way into his body, the body of the scientist fell limply.

The sensation of an unknown gas entity sifting through your body was not the most comfortable and soon Touma was screaming. Every nook and cranny of his body was filled by the black mist. All except for his right hand. The entity could not get posses the right hand, it just couldn't, it tried with all his might to enter but every time he did, he was thrown back. Touma's vision began to darken, shadows began to dance in his vision, it crept from the edges to the center. And soon his vision was obscured. His senses were dulled, he could neither hear, see, smell, taste or move. It was as he was dead, but still alive, he could feel his lack of sense. The entity had finally taken control of his brain, all his functions were under its control, all except one.

His right hand began to twitch violently. The anomaly frowned, his actions retransmitted on Touma's face, he should be in control of the body. Touma in his near death state could only move his right hand, the only part of him he could feel. The anomaly brought Touma's arm up, but not close to his face. The hand suddenly jerked to touch the right shoulder and the anomaly lost control of the right arm. It screamed in frustration. How dared this lowly human refuse the honor he had granted him? He should be grateful to be possessed by someone as superior as him. But this ungrateful little i _bn el sharmouta_ was denying him his right. He forced his claws deeper into Touma's consciousness.

He was interrupted as the right arm drew closer to his head. He did not know what would happen should his place of residence be touched by this damned hand. He raised the left hand to stop the arm and it soon became a fight against oneself.

In the depth of his own consciousness, Touma was currently wrestling against his own left arm. He managed to twist his right hand enough to touch his left arm thus freeing both limbs. Without wasting a single second his right hand came to touch his head. Shrieking the body switcher exited his body before the fatal hand could touch him. Hissing the black cloud distanced itself from Touma. It took the form of a humanoid form, the figure shifted ever so slightly. Its 'mouth' opened.

"What are you? You are no human."

"I'm just your normal unlucky student."

" _Hara'"_ Spitted the anomaly. "You're a monster just like me."

"I am human and nothing will change this."

The entity 'grinned' savagely.

"Then come at me 'human', I will take your body for mine and make you suffer as I desecrate it. And there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Touma shouted a battle cry as he charged toward the entity, its fist raised. As he neared the mist, he tried to punch it to make it disappear, however, the anomaly simply distorted, letting his fist pass harmlessly. It responded with a vicious punch itself, the strange mist solidifying itself. It hit with a surprising force, knocking Touma to ground.

"What a weakling, and I thought that you would prove interesting." Said the anomaly smugly.

The mist formed into a single ball and zeroed toward Touma's head, entering it once more. Touma screamed as his mind was assaulted by memories of the entity.

_A poor boy in a medieval bazaar was begging for money, his face was thinned by hunger, his body was wiry, without any fat and he had black hair, dirty and unkempt like his clothes. The boy was desperately shaking a little chechi with a small coin in it. People passed next to him, not paying attention to the beggar. As the sun began to set he weakly got up but was knocked back to the ground by a group of tall and strong thugs. The one who knocked him sneered._

" _Ye worthless dog! Can't even get beg like th' proper dog y'are. If next time you d'nt bring five dinars we'll beat ya good. Scram now! Keep your piece, t's probably goin' to giv'me the plague."_

_The boy ran as fast as he could clutching the piece as close as he could to his beating chest. He ran in the maze of little street that made the city, the palace visible in the distance like a taunting display of arrogance and wealth. As night finally fell he reached a small tent he had built from salvaged material. Inside was a ragged and torn up prayer rug serving as both his bed and his place of prayer, a thin wool cover was next to it. He was extenuated as he slipped on his rug-bed and has the prayer call echoed through the city he began to pray to Allah, the last being to whom he could turn._

_As the last faithful words left his lips he felt someone behind him. He turned, drawing a small knife he had stolen and pointed it at the intruder. He was a tall Arab man in his forties, his air was slicked to the side and he sported a generous beard. From his eyes emanated a certain amusement. Unlike the boy, he was tall and well kept. The strangest thing about him, thought the beggar, was his clothes. He had some kind of long djellaba, but black and made of wool. It had golden buttons that closed it to the side and a high collar decorated with strange insignias. He had long black boot and pants. Who in their right mind would wear black in Egypt? The stranger laughed._

" _Don't worry about me boy, I was just curious and I came here, nothing to fear from me." He said in a deep, reassuring voice._

_The boy was still not convinced and did not loosen his grip on the knife. The man sighed before smiling once again._

" _Look, I just came here to propose you a deal. Here are some coins, just to prove my good faith."_

_The boy quickly took the coins from the man's hand, sheathing it back in his ragged clothes. He looked at the coins, twenty bright pieces. With this, he could eat for some time and even pay Ahmad's band. The man coughed._

" _So, first what is your name?"_

" _Karim, sir."_

" _Very well, Karim, what do you want?"_

" _What do you mean, sir?"_

" _What do you wish in your life? Money? Food? Power?"_

" _I don't want to beg, sir."_

_The man's smile widened._

_"Well, I have an offer for you. Come with me."_

_Karim had nothing to lose and followed the man. They traveled for hours to a temple far from the city. The man had given Karim food and water to help him during the trek. They neared an ancient structure, with large damaged pillars and the statues of ancient half-animal half-man gods. Karim shivered, he had often heard of this temple, it was the house of angry spirits and heretics who defied Allah._

" _Don't worry, my boy. The men inside this temple only wish to help you."_

_Seeing the boy hesitating, he sighed and knelt next to him._

_"They are heretics." The boy looked at him shocked. "Now, now, they are maybe heretics, but what did Allah give you? What did he give you? Nothing. He left you to rot in this city. Gods and goddesses have forgotten us. It is time for us to stand up for ourselves. Those men and I have understood that and tonight, you will be the first that we will help."_

_The boy looked away, remembering all the hardship he had been through, all the time he nearly died. If he was still here it was thanks to his own handwork and skill. He nodded slowly and the man smiled, rising up. He gave his hand to the boy who took it eagerly. He guided the boy inside the temple. Inside were thirteen people in coats, their heads covered by hoods. They all bowed as the stranger entered the room._

" _This is Karim, he will be our first protégé."_

_The assembly nodded and spoke as one._

" _Greetings" The deep voice of the thirteen resonating in the temple._

" _Go in the center of the circle." Ordered the man._

_Karim did as told and placed himself in the middle of the assembly who began to chant in an unknown raspy language. They chanted for several minutes, the crescendo grew louder and louder until a black storm formed in the circle, with Karim in its eye. Multiple cuts began to appear, Karim wanted to flee but was rooted where he was by his own fear. Slowly the storm drew closer to him and he began to scream as the storm hit him, entering his body. It stopped just after and he fell on the floor, tired like he had never been. As his vision faded he heard the boots of the stranger walking away and the stranger talking._

" _Its time for me to go back to my own time. Take care of him."_

Different memories assaulted Touma, Karim discovering his new form as a shadow, his power. He had not to beg now but at what price. He was used, he killed many, possessed many. And as he grew up, he began to enjoy it. He enjoyed torturing people. Possessing their bodies, making them do the most horrible thing and just letting them watch, powerless, as he desecrated their bodies, raped their wives and daughters, killed their neighbors and friends. And he began to obey with sadistic glee, he toppled governments, made lords grovel before the poor or him. Humiliated them in ways unimaginable. But one day he was betrayed. The year was 1889, the British had won the war against Egypt and had established a protectorate. And with them came an old and powerful organization, that very few knew about. The Foundation they called themselves, their thirsts for artifact had made them a dangerous enemy of the different cults in the middle east, who had by the past already battled against their ancestors. But the cults, divided, as they were, were no match for the organized and powerful Foundation and soon the most powerful cult of the Arab world was forced to give Karim as a tribute to appease the wrath of the Foundation, like a devout, would for a god. Karim raged and struggled but in the end, he was finally contained.

Karim tumbled out of Touma's head with a shrill shriek. He fell to the ground in his human form. The two fighters looked at each other.

"I see, you're a monster like me, especially with what lies in your hand. I should have been the only one to access your memory, you normally shouldn't have been able to see mine, strange." Spoke Karim.

"You're wrong. You're the only monster here. What have you done is unforgivable, and if you think you can continue, I'll have to break that fucked up illusion of yours."

The thing threw his head back and laughed mirthlessly.

"I have since a long time came to the term with what I am. I am a beast and Allah will send me to hell for my sins, I am no man." He paused. "But I saw in your head, what you think of those people of this Foundation. You think they are good. Let me show you."

And before Touma could react Karim went back in his head. He was once more assaulted by images of the past. Emotionless scientists in white lab-coats ordering to posses Class-D, knowing full well that after possession, they would die. Sometimes the Foundation even used him as a hitman, until he grew rebellious and was locked in a glass prison, reinforced by runes. And for decades he was lonely with only his old faith keeping him company.

Karim left Touma's body once more.

"You see, they used me like their pawn and cast me away when I became useless. It is what will happen to you. But any way you've been a puppet all your life too, the Kiharas, Crowley. You're a freak they use to their own end. And the day you become useless to their plans, bye bye."

Touma did not let the small speech discourage him.

"The Foundation protects people, they are bad apples in the basket but I'm sure that with a better guidance they can be good."

The shadow looked astonished.

"Are you serious? You're nothing but a freak. And you think they'll let you run this organization?"

"I won't lead them, just give them a push in the good direction."

The anomaly threw his hands in the air.

"That's it, this is the weirdest thing I have ever heard. What a total nut-job, and this is coming from a supernatural shadow psychopath." He sighed and shook his head, turning to hide a smile that crept up his face. "But, from what I've seen, you are perhaps the most dedicated nut-job of all dimensions. Eh, why not let you try."

He turned back to Touma and spread his arm in the air.

"Kill me."

"What?" Asked Touma flabbergasted

"You heard me kill me. I am one of the worst people out there, kill me, it's your job as the 'hero', right? Defeat the villain."

"I... I can't. You have realized that what you are doing is not right. You can become good."

Karim took his head in his hand muttering about naive and useless teenagers.

"Look." His face turned grim and remorseful. "I can't take it anymore, I've lived for so long, done so many things, horrible things. What I did cannot and will never be forgiven. I am tired of living, of being caged, of being used, of begging to be free. I know you want to give everyone a happy ending and this is mine. Your right hand is the key to my final happiness, eternal peace. Death. So please, please do it. Allah will finally judge me." At this point, Karim fell to his knee.

Touma with tears in his eyes nodded and solemnly brought his hand near Karim.

"But before I go, do not forget those who 'appreciate' you."

Touma stopped, intrigued, the anomaly winked at him and made him bring his hand closer until it touched where his hearth should be. Karim disappeared into thin air, with a sound of breaking glass. But a lingering 'thank you' resonated in the air.

Touma slid against the wall, finally sitting, the whole thing had taken a toll on him. What had Karim meant with his last words? Never mind that. He had actually taken someone's life. Even if he wished it, he could not help but feel guilty. He heard people coming toward him, five invading soldiers came racing, totally ignoring him, they looked behind as if terrified. Intrigued Touma got up and decided to go toward where they came from. After a few seconds of running, he stumbled upon a massacre, hundreds of those strange humanoid insects littered the ground, they were all burnt to death with barely anything recognizable, he only managed to identify them due to the relatively intact one, who had been killed by bullets.

He heard a scream and rushed toward its source. When he arrived he saw fifteen strange humanoids with wiry members, they looked as frail as children and were more akin to mummies than humans. They were bent over some bodies and by the look of it, they would soon become corpses.

"Hey! You! Get off them!" Shouted Touma.

The anomalies looked at him with fear and as he advanced they let out a cry of panic before fleeing deep in the facility. It would be later learned that they went back into confinement.

Touma rushed to the side of the closest person, it was a woman with an orange suit, a white and gray bulletproof vest but he instantly recognized her. It was Clara! There was five other man with covered faces, soundly asleep. What was she doing with those invading soldiers? Softly he touched the side of her head and her eyes fluttered. The anomalous effect ending.

"T-Touma?" She croaked, still a bit weakened.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere?" Asked Touma concerned.

She smiled.

"No, I'm okay thanks to you."

He was about to say something but a bony hand suddenly pulled him and threw him on his back. One of those strange creatures had come back. Quickly Clara got up, took her handgun and fired blindly toward the supposed location of the anomaly. She scored a hit and the thing retreated, shrieking. But in her haste, she tripped and fell on Touma, straddling him at his hips, her face at some mere centimeters of his. The two teens gulped and blushed crimson and their eyes bore into each others'. The hearts of both teens were beating hard and fast. They stayed like that for a few seconds, before a cough interrupted them.

A few feet from them was an apparently irritated Wanda, her left eye was twitching and she had some sort of crisped smile. She felt the urgent need to slap the bitch that was currently on he- Touma, just Touma. Strangely in another dimension, a rather emotional Biribiri felt the same.

"Touma, if you would please get away from this psycho so I could kill her. It'd be great."

Clara got up and replied back.

"Oh, yeah? Why don't you fuck off and play soldier elsewhere?"

"I was just about to tell you the same, you little slut. Why don't you go back to build sand castles."

"Oooh, slut? Was it because I was so close to Touma? You know I think he prefers girls his age instead of old hags."

That struck a nerve.

"The fuck you said? You little shit."

"Ladies, ladies, let's calm down a-"

"You, stay out of this!" Shouted both women before drawing their handguns and aiming at each other.

Each bolted from another side, shooting once, both missing they tried to shoot a second time only to hear the click of an empty magazine. Wanda drew her trench knife, putting herself in a reverse grip position, Clara took out a bowie knife. They slowly circled around each other. Touma protested but was ignored.

The two woman launched forward, bringing their knives to bear. Clara went with an overhead downward slash and Wanda blocked it with the iron knuckle of her knife. She countered with a kick in the shin and slashed at Clara's face who dodged the attack, twisting her knife she slashed the air multiple time and walked back in order to put some distance between her and Wanda. Both took back crouched combat positions. Tentatively Wanda advanced, then lunged with her knife. Clara sidestepped the attack and slashed downward Wanda's neck, who dodged the attack by rolling. She twisted on herself and delivered a powerful uppercut with the knuckle of her knife. Clara gasped and backpedaled and Wanda pressed the attack.

However Clara managed to dodge the slash by ducking and cut deep into Wanda's vest, it was reinforced with tightly woven Kevlar which protected from knife wounds, however, the bowie knife was too sharp and big and pierced it, it was still slowed down. Clara swiftly twisted her knife and cut her right forearm on the length. Wanda jumped back, she had been cut at her stomach, not by much but it was still bleeding good, the wound on her arm was also bleeding.

Clara taunted her with an arrogant smirk. She pointed toward Touma and mouthed _Mine_. That was it for Wanda who jumped ferociously at Clara. She was preparing to cut Clara's neck when a hand stopped her. Clara who was preparing to do the same raised her arm but was stopped.

Touma had put himself between them, holding their arm, he was trembling under their combined forces.

"Stop!" He shouted.

The two women looked at each other with disgust but stepped back, still holding their knife.

"Okay, what is happening. What are you doing Clara?"

She looked at him and sighed.

"I am not a simple Class-D, I am an agent of the Chaos Insurgency. We are a group who believes that what the Foundation is wrong. We wish to serve humanity by using anomalies."

"And this includes me?"

"Yes, but the Insurgency would treat you far better than those Foundation bastards. Come with me and you will be a savior of humanity instead of a lab rat." Proposed Clara, extending her hand to Touma.

"Don't!" Intervened Wanda; "They're madmen and cause destruction everywhere they go, they're selfish and greedy. The Foundation is the only true protector of humanity."

"Look who's talking, you jailed him like a beast."

"Because you are doing anything better?"

Both women growled and looked at each other with murderous intent.

"Clara." Spoke Touma "Was what you told me about you false?"

"Yes." Said Clara looking down in shame.

"Were you the one who burned those SCPs?"

"I gave the order yes." She said looking up, she saw the disappointed eyes of Touma. "I had no choice, it was us or them."

"Maybe, but still burning them alive?" Said Touma shaking his head.

"I.. I.." stuttered Clara.

"I am sorry but I have to stay with the Foundation. I don't know if you are lying to me or not."

Clara felt her heart tighten as he uttered those words, tears nearly reached her eyes, but she chased them away. She looked up only to see the smug smile of Wanda. Her heart began to burn with anger and... jealousy? What was that doing here? Was she jealous of Wanda because Touma chose her? No, he did not choose her, he chose the Foundation. No reason to be jealous, right?

"I'm sorry, you must hate me now."

"No, I don't hate you." He said and she looked up. "I am disappointed but I know you are a good person. You are still a friend of mine. It is just that now, I cannot go with you."

It both relieved her and disappointed her. He did not hate her but he would still stay with the Foundation. The footsteps of approaching guards could be heard, and her squad began to wake up. They realized where they were and got up, ready to fire, but she stopped them.

"Withdraw to EZ Bravo. We have lost."

They looked at each other confused but she repeated the order vehemently. They left, taking a corridor. Clara stayed a bit.

"Goodbye Touma, I hope you will see the truth one day."

And she walked away. She stopped and turned back, whispering softly into his ear.

"My name is Monika."

She winked and left, swaying her hips for a while before breaking into a sprint. Touma could only stare with a slight blush. He looked behind to see Wanda with a strange look on her face. She looked at him weirdly too, it reminded him of Biribiri when his misfortune put him into strange situations with girls. He gulped. She said nothing but smiled after a bit, she pulled him into a hug.

"I was so afraid that you would die." She admitted.

He blushed a bit but she pulled back, a bit rosy herself as the guards entered the crossroad. He looked toward where Cla- Monika had left. He had a feeling they would see each other again.

" **The attack has been successfully repelled. Personnel is to stay in the bunker until the anomalies have been re-contained by Foundation armed personnel."**

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Monika Engel, formerly Clara McLaren looked from her windows, the Site, who was getting smaller and smaller. She was in a transport helicopter of the Insurgency. Apparently, all of the Sigmas had either been killed or captured, the operation had been one catastrophic failure. The only silver lining was that they managed to kill three fourth of the guards. The Insurgency had been taken behind by an MTF who was near the Site.

She thought about Touma, she was still saddened that he refused to come with her. She still had the urge to kill that NU-7 hag but knew that in the end, Touma would see the truth. She thought back about her action. Did she just flirt with him? Yeah, that was flirt... She took her blushing head in her hands, oh my god why did she do that, did she thought she was some kind of Femme Fatale? Ridiculous. Touma probably was thinking her as a weirdo doubled by a murderer now... As she was mulling over this embarrassment, not knowing the boy had stared at her like he was hypnotized, the video feed was activated and the face of Orion appeared.

"You have failed your mission Agent Hex." He simply stated.

"I am sorry, sir. But I know I can bring India-Bravo in the fold, willingly. Just give me some time."

Orion stayed silent for a bit, studying Monika.

"I hope you can. You are being transferred to Unit Sleight Hand."

"Sleight Hand, sir?" She questioned curious.

"This unit's purpose is the capture of Item India-Bravo 0."

She nodded. She would soon see Touma again.

**A CERTAIN SCP**


	7. Secret UN, Site-19 and A Last Hope

n a reunion room, five persons sat around a reunion table. This meeting was composed of the two Site Advisors, the Temporary Chief of Security, Site 06-3's Head Researcher and the Commander of MTF Tau-9 « Mountain Dogs » and the Site Director of Personnel. They all had dark bags under their eyes as they reviewed the aftermath of the Chaos Insurgency raid.

"... one hundred and thirty guards were killed during the assault, with all survivors suffering various minor injuries. Most of these losses are due to the Special Operation Squads, their combined kill count numbers around the ninety. I recommend to revise our defense tactics, to prioritize those elite soldiers and to identify them quicker." Spoke the Chief of Security, a French black woman in her thirties.

"Well as for the noncombatant personnel, we have lost three researchers, one psychologist, five janitors, two engineers and three members of the administration. Theirs, and the guards', bodies are currently being sent back to

their families for a pre-paid burial, their compensation has also been sent and the different cover stories have been successfully established. And, of course Director Conti is missing, kidnapped by the Insurgency. Morale is, as expected, at its lowest." Spoke the Director of Personnel a portly Swedish man.

Then spoke the Head Researcher, an old Vietnamese man in his sixties. "All SCPs are accounted for, except The Shadow, but it has been neutralized by Zero, and all critical research files too. They might have made copies but we have the originals. However, it seems we have lost some files on Safe class SCPs, like 706."

"Well, my boys have lost ten of our own, we managed to take prisoners twenty Insurgency soldiers and one of those Engineers fella, we tryin' to make him talk but he ain't spilling anything. 9 ordered my MTF to garrison here 'til reinforcements come." Said the MTF commander, an Arizonan with a drawl.

One of the Advisors, an American in his forties, took his head in his hand.

"This is a disaster."

The other Advisor, a Belgian, spoke while maintaining a better attitude.

"At least we still have all SCPs and reinforcements will soon be on the way. The SCPs that might have been the reason behind this attack is also now far from here, so I doubt we will have another raid. We also managed to inflict heavy casualties to the Insurgency."

"I suppose you are right, now it is Site 19's problem."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

The plane shook as it passed into a zone of turbulence and lightly shook Wanda of her daydreaming before continuing.

" _What!?" She asked shocked to her commander via video call._

" _You heard me right, soldier. You are no longer a part of Nu-7." The black man lifted his hand as she opened her mouth to protests. "You are not fired from the Foundation. You are reassigned to a different MTF, don't know which one, but it has to do with SCP Zero. Can't say more, it's above my pay-grade."_

And so she had been sent away to a, for now, unknown Site with Touma and Mishimoto, Senaviev had died during the breach, killed by a stray bullet. Unlike the first plane that brought them from Japan which was a cargo plane, this one was a small jet meant for personal transport. She was alone in a small cabin, with a magnificent view of clouds and the Atlantic. She did not know where they were going exactly but she at least knew it was on the American continent, probably the northern part.

In another part of the plane were Mishimoto and Touma, she had been ordered to stay with Touma in order to interrogate him about his actions during the breach and the different SCPs he had encountered and neutralized and also to evaluate his psychological state after it.

Mishimoto had stayed silent during the embarkation, after thirty minutes of silence on the plane. Touma felt something strange about Mishimoto. She had made sure before the flight and during those thirty minutes that no cameras or bugs would be placed. Satisfied, she began to speak or rather rant.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"Wha-"

"Running off like that, you could have gotten killed! Are you unconscious or what? Taking an eldritch horror, sleep killers and potential goddess of apocalypse alone! Do you have a deathwish? We are trained to take care of them, you are not!" She said, breathing deeply after finishing.

"But I'm still here, right?" Asked Touma with a nervous smile.

"You could not be with your recklessness." Observed Mishimoto.

"I had to help those people. I could not let them get hurt without doing something." Protested Touma.

She observed him for a moment before sighing.

"I guess you are right, you can handle yourself but restrain yourself from doing so in the near future. You had to spend the entirety of yesterday in the medical ward and you were only cleared because you need to travel."

"Don't worry, I'm fine, I heal fast."

Mishimoto arched an eyebrow, she then proceeded to poke one of his bruise inflicted by 029.

"Ow."

She then looked at him straight in the eyes while tilting her head to the side.

"Okay, okay, maybe it still hurts a bit."

They stayed silent for a bit with only the sound of the plane's engine and its rocking breaking the silence.

"But," said Mishimoto breaking the silence. "I guess I ought to thank you for saving me." She said turning her head to face the window, watching the sea of clouds and salted water, the sun made the waves shine. Her long bangs were hiding her face.

"No problem, I did what I could. I wouldn't want you to get hurt" Said Touma innocently.

He was far from doubting that Mishimoto had not taken those words lightly. Most people in her life had been hostile or neutral toward her, even her parents, that treated her more like a trophy to brandish, jealous colleagues and classmates, haughty and contemptuous brothers. Her rare positive relationship had often been ended, by either other peoples or circumstances. For her, to meet someone so friendly and protective of her was new and pleasing, this was reinforced by the fact that he was an anomaly she helped keep contained.

She did not want to show her pleased face, as such she broke eye contact and trusted her bangs to hide it.

"But still, thank you."

She then turned back, took out a blank page and a pen.

"So tell me what happened."

And Touma told her what happened during the breach, but omitted the Monika part. She worried the possible trauma the shadow SCP could have caused, after all having its body possessed then having to fight oneself, followed by an exploration of the attacker's memory and finishing by killing it could be a traumatizing experience for anybody. However, Touma seemed fine, he exhibited no strange comportment, even during the trauma test. Saeko maintained a cool exterior but was inside even more worried. Someone should have still shown signs of fear or slight trauma after such an ordeal, however, Touma was his usual self and seemed perfectly good. There were only two possibilities.

First, he was lying and keeping his real thought under wrap. It was bad for multiple reasons. If he hid his true feelings, then that meant he either did not trust her not enough or he was trying to keep his composure and not appear weak. Both were bad since a lack of trust in her from his part complicated her task as his psychologist and it was bad for him to not tell the truth as it would gradually destroy him from the inside. Furthermore a lack of trust in her actually... saddened her?

The second, and most probable she thought was the possibility that he went through a worse ordeal. It was backed by his numerous scars and his evasiveness about his past. It was the worst possibility, what could be worse than his encounter with the Shadow? She was resolute to find out the truth.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

More than a hundred men and women were sitting in a large round room. The tables inside were arranged to form the shape of a semicircle with three rows of six table. At the center of the semicircle was a podium with a white man in a suit. Behind him was the last table with eight people sitting, their figures were hard to see due to some sort of invisible separation, barring all colors from filtering out and twisting every form behind. Numerous guards were dispatched inside the room, forming an efficient security cordon. The room and its disposition resembled the UN General Assembly Hall, but lacking any seats for observators, this impression was reinforced by the giant blue banner hanging above the seven mysterious figures. The blue banner had the giant sigil of the UN, the world surrounding by olive branches, a symbol of peace and equality. However just below another sigil, well visible, could be seen, it was the same as the UN's except for a pentagram over the world and the words, 'Survival', 'Concealment', 'Protection', 'Destruction', 'Education' were written between the pentagram branches'. Below was written 'Global Occult Coalition'.

Small props with the name of different organizations were before the different tables of the hall. The eight mysterious persons all had a prop before them. One could read 'International Center for the Study of Unified Thaumatology', 'The Reformed Holy Order of Knight Templar', 'Servants of Silicon Nornir', 'The United Church of Satan, Scientist', 'The World Parahealth Organization' or 'The Universalist Order of the Aesir'. The last name prop in the middle had the word 'Under-Secretary-General D.C. al Fine' etched upon it.

The persons assembled in the room were what, could be considered by normal standards, a weird bunch of misfits. There were knights in armor at one end of the room, people with robes in another, while in the middle some could find priests sitting next to Satanists, the room was filled with a wide diversity of people both in ethnic and clothes, with some sporting formal business suit and some sporting Amerindian traditional clothes.

"... And so I would like to conclude this Assembly by announcing the destruction of KTE-0453-Blackwood by the ingenious Celts League of Druids, who by their combined intelligence and bravery managed to do what should have been done five years ago."

The assembly erupted in whispers at the direct pike towards the Inca Sun Priesthood. The Priesthood had tried to destroy KTE-0453-Blackwood, a rather benign if psychotic anomaly without success, the item had been given to the CLD after much insistence, and now they were insulting them. The Inca delegation, in their regal traditional clothing, seemed rather vexed at this if their looks were anything to go by.

The customary bell rang as the Assembly was dismissed, the eight figures disappearing. Matthew Keynes got up, sighing. He was a tall white man in his thirties with bright blue eyes, his blond hair was slicked to the side in a business cut. He wore a navy blue suit with a blue tie with barely visible golden threads, forming hexagons. As the usual talk between representatives erupted he walked to one of the exits. He was soon joined by his friend, George Edwards. George was a man of average height with chestnut hair, cut in a close cut. He was too dressed in a suit but black with a plain red tie, he was like Matthew in his thirties. The two men were representatives of The United States Paranormal Conclave.

"Less boring than usual. I can't believe the Druids insulted the Incas like that, they're rather nice normally." Said George engaging the conversation.

"Yes, it was rather sudden. I wonder what game they are playing." Answered Matthew.

They neared one of the exits and opened the door, they were met by the sight of an elevator. It was rather normal at first glance, with the exception of the hundred of buttons on all the elevators' side. Some indicated Moscow, Paris, London, New York, Brasilia and many other cities in the world. At least one city per countries was present with some countries, like the USA having multiple cities represented.

"You want to eat at _Il Insolito_ ?" Asked Matthew

"Sure, why not."

They both entered the elevator and Matthew pressed the 'New York' button.

"Wait. Stop, wait please." Asked two knights in bright medieval armor, their armors were covered by a white wool clothing with red Templar insignia. They were walking fast, but still regally toward the elevator. George pressed another button with 'Wait' inscribed on it. The two knights entered the booth.

"Thanks." Said one of them. The other nodded in gratitude.

"Damn too hot to wear this helmet." Said the nodding one, removing his helm, his face was sweaty.

"Where do you want to go?" Asked Matthew.

"We will go to Jerusalem." Answered the two knights with a deep voice, banging their feet on the floor.

The four men burst in a fit of laughter.

"Hahaha-hi, that never gets old." Said George trying to talk through his laugh.

"Yeah, haha. I remember the first time Godefroy said that it was hilarious."

"Yes, what a funny moment." Said a fifth man.

He was not laughing, he was actually doing the opposite of this and was instead looking at the four men with a contemptuous look. His grey hair was cut in a slicked back haircut and on his head was a kippa. He was part of The Jewish Paranormal Community. The four men quickly schooled their features and stood straight.

"M-malta please." Said one of the Templar.

"Jerusalem." Simply stated, coldly, the fifth man.

The door closed and the elevator rocked it spatially teleported to the New York entrance. The travel lasted a few seconds before the door opened.

"New York, UN Headquarters, ground floor." Spoke the automatic female voice.

As George and Matthew bade farewell to the Templars and the Jew, they exited the elevator. The Knight Templars began to apologize to the fifth man, with a moderate but encouraging success.

As George and Matthew exited the building, greeting the different people they walked by, opening their umbrellas to protect themselves from the rain, George opened his mouth.

"You think the guy is going to complain about it?"

"I don't think so, the Templars will probably smooth things up with him. Even then the joke makes everyone laugh, heck even most of the guys at the JPC laugh at it. He is probably not a jokster anyway. "

They walked by the UN's flags, representing all members country, which was virtually every existing country on Earth. The rain that was currently pouring was ruining the glorious view. But still, Matthew could only feel proud as he walked beneath the flags. He was a very adamant supporter of the UN, and of course of the GOC, he had the hope that those organizations were the future of Humanity, one where they could unite. For now the GOC remained in the shadow, protecting humanity from the horrors of the universe.

They walked fast in the rain before finally reaching a small restaurant, it was rather unremarkable. It was a dinner with normal prices, normal personnel, normal booths, normal decoration and normal food, with Georgian omelettes being the speciliality.. It was above all normal, so normal it was abnormal.

"Hello, and welcome to Georgian Omelette Cantina! What can I do for you?" Greeted a waitress at the entry.

"We would like table number ninety-nine and three Georgian omelettes, please."

"Of course, follow me." Said the woman, turning around and walking towards the end of the restaurant.

They followed her as she opened a back door and entered another room. It was also totally normal, with no one inside. She walked to a chimney and began to speak.

" _Sakreshi ovekta, u te lok ovekt."_

The chimney erupted into a three-meter tall black flame, before it tore itself, revealing a portal to another place.

"Gentlemen, if you would." Invited the woman.

As they thanked her, the two men crossed the portal, arriving in a chic restaurant. It had a European look, with beautiful wood and chandelier as well as huge, colored carpets and mosaics. A waiter greeted them before bringing to a table with two chairs. As they sat at the table, one could see that the restaurant had few patrons at their tables. The restaurant was reserved for members or allies of the GOC and as such a small number of people knew of its existence. The fact that it was the restaurant of a prominent house of Italian magicians chefs helped this.

They sat at a wooden table and took their commands. They were familiar with the menu.

"I will take a _Branzino_ please." Said, George

"The same."

The waiter nodded and walked back to the kitchen to place the order. Matthew flicked a small button on the side of the table, the air around began to distort before getting back to normal. George arched an eyebrow. This little switch was a voice distorter, allowing clients to speak plans and classified documents in all safety. Only special GOC agents and people with higher clearances could hear them clearly.

"I suppose this is not for a simple chat." Said, George.

"No, indeed. I wanted to talk to you about an important subject, it concerns the Foundation."

George looked interested, the Foundation was both their main rival and ally. They were some kind of allied opposites, with similar goals but different methods, allies of convenience.

"Do tell."

"I suppose you have heard about this new SCP of them, one who supposedly erases any anomalies."

"I was there at the meeting you know. It caused quite a fuss." Said George, while rolling his eyes.

"Well, I've heard that," Said Matthew while bringing his face closer to George's, despite the uselessness of this action. "Some member of the GOC tried to take it, four or five days ago."

"Take it from Foundation custody, were they mad? We have a truce with them, its already fragile as it is, we don't need to fight each other."

"Worse, according to their sources the abilities was located in its hand, so guess what? They tried to cut it." Said Matthew.

"Oh god. We are never going to hear the end of this. Does the Internal Department know who did it?"

"Not really, suspicions points towards a far east cult. And wait it gets worse."

"What? Don't tell me they launched a raid."

"Nah the entity is going to arrive soon on American ground. And well, the President is very interested."

"He better not do anything, that fop has no real trained agency to deal with that. The FBI's Unusual Incident Unit is a joke and their men in black always fuck up."

"Yup, that's why the President asked the High Thaumaturgists to help, or rather ordered them to."

The High Thaumaturgists were the US Paranormal Conclave's leaders, an assembly of fifty Thaumaturgist, one for each state, who assumed the day to day governance of the Conclave.

"Can't he see that he is creating a diplomatic incident? We are not at his beck and call either."

"Unfortunately, we are. He is after all in the UNSC and is our President as such he has special rights to force us to action. He probably used a lot of politicking for that too."

George sighed.

"So what do you think he will order us to do?" he asked.

Matthew looked away, by a window, the Alps were stretching before him.

"I do not know. Only that the Foundation will not like it."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

In a faraway place, out of time and space was a library. Not any library, the library. The Wanderer's Library. Home to all the books in existence. Thousands of anomalies existed in its ways, their denizens going about their day, safe from any human agency trying to capture them. Near the library's center was a room, covered with cozy cushions, chairs, and sofas. A young man, with a shaved head, a leather vest, and jeans, was currently on one of this sofas. He was currently checking his phone, scouring the deep recess of the Internet. On it existed several paranormal sites where one could share his experiences or troubles, there was a vast network of supernatural, right under everyone's nose.

He looked up, swearing to have seen someone, before going back to surfing. A hand pressed against his shoulder making him jump in the air. He turned back to meet the face of L.S. The Head Librarian of the Library and the leader of the Serpent's Hand. He was a man or a woman, with a face which was... a face. He had had green robes and held in one of his hand a beige tweed newsboy cap.

"Holy shit, L.S, you scared the shit out of me! Stop using your cap, dude. Everyone said it to you at a moment or another."

L.S laughed.

"Don't be such a spoilsport, G.L." She said in a soft voice."Come on, I've gotta talk to you."

He was rather intrigued. He followed L.S in another room. He gestured to G.L to sit at a table, before snapping her fingers. A small folder appeared in the middle of the table.

"Open it."

G.L opened the folder, and a stream of water, coming from the opened folder, landed on his face. He looked at L.S with a 'are you serious' look. L.S smiled with a mischievous smile. He handed G.L a small frame with a white canvas. As G.L touched it, the pristine canvas was suddenly marred with black letters.

"You know what to do." Said L.S, a bit of glee in her voice.

"Yes."

"Here, I'll let you borrow that" Said L.S, handing his hat to G.L. "Don't get caught;"

No response was heard, just as L.S blinked, the boy disappeared. L.S smiled, snapped his fingers and he disapeared in a cloud of smoke.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

After eleven hours of travel, and one stop, the plane landed. But where? That Touma did not know. He was blindfolded and then escorted to a SUV by several men. It was surely in a desert, it was winter but the temperature was still high. The sand crunching under his shoes was also an indication. He knew there were multiple cars in front and behind them. The last part of the trip lasted for about an hour before they arrived at some kind of hangar. There, his blindfold was removed.

What he saw reminded him of Site 06-3 but a lot bigger. The hangar was giant with a fleet of hundreds of vehicles, ranging from motorbikes to tanks and even a mobile command center. As he stepped inside the Site itself, a low rumbling could be felt and some kind of roar could be heard.

"What was that?" He asked.

The guards escorting them did not answer, but by the looks they exchanged was anything to go by, it wasn't pleasant... They began to walk in the tight white corridors of the entry zone. There were no signs and a few people were present. There was only a small number of guards patrolling. They looked exactly like Site 06-3's guards but seemed to be better equipped. Large, new assault rifles rested in their hands, sometimes it was a blocky handgun with a Plexiglas riot shield. They had on their helmets four optics Night-Vision Google. A gas-mask was attached to their utility belt.

They passed the entry zone and arrived at a cafeteria. It was filled with personnel on break. One of the ends of the room was also a break room, with books, PCs, gaming consoles, billiard pools, TVs, cushion, couches, sofa and tables for other kinds of games. Most of the room was however designed for restoration with a self-service and tables to eat at. The personnel present was happily chatting like one would expect from a normal place. Foundation posters, reminding one of the importance of their work were plastered on the wall as well as some announcing certain events.

In the cafeteria everyone was chatting happily, as if everything was going well, ignoring the eldritch horrors, mass murdering things and other dangerous artifacts entombed within the walls of the Site. Wanda, however, unlike Touma could still discern an underlying tension. It was as if everyone pretended all was good to erase the nervousness of working in such a place. She did wonder what lied in the bowels of the Site.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

An eye opened. A second now. Then a third, a fourth, a fifth, a sixth and it continued until all the eyes were opened. A forked tail, with a sharp blade attached upon it, gently shook, before taking momentum and swinging wildly. Powerful legs lifted a giant decaying body. The body was mismatched, the nether parts let see bones and flesh while those above were covered by a thick scaly skin. The scales shined beneath the powerful light on the ceiling, reflecting their olive green and black color. The six legs of the creature possessed a dozen razor sharps claws and talons. Its gigantic maw opened, it was a horror composed of three rows of piercing teeth and with a razor wire long wiry tongue, jutting from the side of the maw were two thick tentacles which began to writhe and swing in the air.

The creature woked from a long slumber, one slept in a lake of acid, devouring its skin, melting it apart. The creature looked around as if searching for something. In an observation bay, above it, a man in a white lab coat pressed himself against the reinforced windows. The creature's mind suddenly registered a presence akin to its, it began to growl, it should not be here, it should be anywhere but here. The thing began to roar, swinging his powerful tail and brandishing his claws, it backed into a corner of the room, shaking its chamber. As it did so, it rose to its full height, while still staying on all its legs. It dwarfed any human by five meters, its maw as wide as a human and its talons as long as an arm, just like its teeth.

The thing roared even louder as he felt the presence linger, shaking the building to its core before it stopped and stayed defensively in its corner. Above the man had already called his superiors and dispatched Special Containment Teams. He frowned as the monster fell silent, he had remarked that his roar was not one of anger, but one of fear.

"What is scaring you so much 682?" Asked the man for himself.

In another part of the facility, a figure in black robes stopped its work. It put back on the table the tools of its trade and looked to a particular direction, its beaked mask pointing to the specific directions. It tilted its head and spoke in a deep voice.

"A cure? Or a plague? Or both?" He asked itself.

He followed something with its eyes for a moment before stopping and getting back at its subject, a half dissected human corpse. Behind a tinted glass, a man had recorded the event.

"SCP-049, exhibited a strange behavior during tw..."

In a dark cell, without light, a pale hunched being moaned and pressed itself against a corner. Its giant blood caked claws, covering its face and its disproportionated jaw. The moaning grew as it pressed itself more forcefully against the wall.

Behind a screen, two women were talking.

"What do you think it is doing?" Asked the first.

The second one shook her head.

"I don't know, but when 096 is like that, it's never a good sign."

In a cell which was the polar opposite of 096's was a tall concrete statue, it was lit by projectors and multiple security cameras were watching the object. The door opened to let pass a single Class-D. The lights shut down and the cameras were deactivated. The scientists in the observation bay had introduced a Class-D for two reasons, this one was to be executed, the second reason was to measure the speed of 173. The cardiac sensor on the Class-D continued to send signals even ten seconds after the shutdown. The scientists frowned and looked at each other, strange.

They pushed the lever up to illuminate the room once again. To their surprises the Class-D was very much alive, he was not even looking at the statue and was shrugging confused, looking at the bay. The SCP itself was pressed against the reinforced steel door, like in an attempt to get out.

"What the hell?"

"Get the Class-D, we have to analyze him. Go!" Ordered a scientist at a guard.

"I never saw that in my life."

In another chamber, sealed behind layered Plexiglas a mask came to life. The mask was one of ancient greek tragedy and was currently depicting a scared face. The room was bathed in darkness and lightning erupted sporadically as the mask jumped in its prison, trying to break free.

"What. The. Fucking. Hell. 035?" Said a man behind an observation bay.

All over Site-19, SCPs would begin to act strangely for a few seconds or minutes before going back to normal. The only correlation between these incidents would be the arrival of a certain SCP.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

After a long walk into nameless unmarked corridors, the group finally arrived at Touma's containment chamber. It was much more spacious than Site 06-3's with a bigger bed and bathroom. The item he had required at the old Site were also present. Wanda and Mishimoto were then brought elsewhere, and Touma was left alone in his chamber. However, outside of the room, two guards were posted at his door.

Wanda had been brought to a small conference room to another part of the Site. She sat at a table, in front of her was a man in his forties with salt and pepper hair, he was dressed in a formal military uniform.

"I suppose you are already aware of your transfer to this new unit."

"Yes, but I do not know the goal of this unit, its function or its name."

The man nodded and reached for a folder next to him. It was covered by the SCP sigil and a red CONFIDENTIAL printed on it and handed it to her.

"You may already have heard rumors of this MTF."

Wanda took the folder and opened it. The first page had the name MTF Alpha-9 "Last Hope" printed upon it. Her eyes widened, Alpha-9 was a legend amongst the Foundation, they were a specialized task force using SCPs to conduct Search and Destroy or reconnaissance and espionage mission. They had according to the rumor excellent results and were one of the Foundation's prime asset.

She turned another page and there was printed 'Team 'Imagine Breakers''. The file detailed in great lengths the goal of the team.

_Team 'Imagine Breakers' (Also codenamed Team Gamma) is a specialized team composed primarily of SCP-0000, an elite intervention force,_

_a field medic, a Containment Specialist, and a research staff. The missions undertaken by this unit are the following._

_-The permanent or temporal neutralization of dangerous SCPs._

_-The support of other MTFs, Foundation assets or law enforcement during a crisis of supernatural origin._

_-Reconnaissance._

_Team Gamma may also receive the support of Foundation assets like vehicles or the assistance of Team 'Cain' (Alpha) or 'Iris' (Beta) or other MTFs such as Lambda-2. The existence of this Team is to be classified on a need to know basis. All participants are to observe extreme discretion about it. Failure to do so will result in immediate termination._

_Team Gamma, like Team Alpha and Beta, are housed at Site-19 and are to be deployed via plane as a RIMTF (Rapid Intervention Mobile Task Force). Should any civilians or GOI witness Team Gamma they are to be administered amnestics or be terminated according to the present circumstances._

_The survival of SCP-0000 is critical and the anomaly must be kept alive at all costs. The success of the mission is second to the survival of SCP-0000. Only Level 5 or above personnel can order the termination of the anomaly or put its survival as a secondary objective. All personnel risking intentionally the life of SCP-0000 will be terminated ASAP._

_All After Action Report are to be classified on a need to know basis. Team 'Imagine Breaker' is to report to MTF Alpha-9 Commander. Reports must also be sent to 05-4 and The Administrator with Level 5 encryptions._

_A word from The Administrator:_

_Greeting, I am The Administrator. This Mobile Task Force Team was created under my direct orders. MTF Alpha-9 is as stated a 'Last Hope' do not waste it. Do not disappoint me._

Wanda's eyes widened as she read the message. The boss of the Foundation himself had gotten involved! Normally he stayed in the sidelines. Having such an important figure looking over her shoulder wasn't reducing her stress.

_List of personnel:_

_Thaumiel:_

_-Touma Kamijou aka SCP-0000 aka 'Imagine Breaker'._

_Special Operation Squad:_

_-Sergeant Wanda Carter_

_-Corporal Henry McKenzie_

_-First Class Karen Walker_

_-First Class Nathan Miles_

_-First Class Luan Botha_

_-Specialist Ansa Aho_

_Containment Specialist:_

_-Cameron Jensen_

_Field Medic:_

_-Mary Jenner_

_Scientific staff:_

_-Assistant August Mobius_

_-Psychologist Saeko Mishimoto_

_-Researcher Adam Alan_

_-Senior Researcher_

Wanda stopped when she saw the name. So it was...

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"So it is it." Asked a figure.

"Yes, you will be in charge of the experimentations concerning it and you will be the leader of Team Gamma." Said a second figure, a man in a suit with the badge Site Director pinned on his chest.

"I understand... Anything noteworthy other than what is written on this file."

"Not really. As usual, keep it under wrap... Except maybe the fact that the staff working with it tends to appreciate its attitude. He is sympathetic according to the previous staff."

"Very well." Said the figure, turning back, the lab coat fluttering behind.

"Good luck ..." Said the Director, as the figure left the office.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Everyone! Listen!" Called Tsuchimikado, he was currently standing up in the middle of an assembly of espers and magicians "We have a development on the Kamijou case;"

The audience began to listen with attention. Among them was a number of different people who wanted to save Touma. One could see the famous Accelerator at the first rank, Misaka Mikoto right next to him. Others like Lessar, Misaki Shokuhou, Misaka 10032, acting as an ambassador of the Network, Styil Magnus, Kanzaki Kaori, Index, and GROUP were listening attentively with many more behind.

"The attack against Mikoto was perpetrated by members of a cabal allied to GREMLIN. According to our thorough interrogation, this group acted out of order. GREMLIN was currently planning a massive assault until someone came along and disrupted everything. We are trying to find out who did this, without result, however. Due to the thinning of the members of GREMLIN, an artifact which could help us get Touma back is currently under-guarded. We are currently locating this artifact and have made significant progress."

The announcement was well received. Some still were worried, who was this person who had managed to disrupt the plans of GREMLIN? It was evidently a powerful being. Everyone stopped their musing as a figure entered the room, out of time and space they were in. A person uninvited.

"So is this the reunion of people trying to save Touma?"

The figure was small, very small, truly a doll, not more than fifteen centimeters. A witch hat decorated her head, long blond hair swayed behind her and her red right eye-patch glowed in the darkness. She carried a golden spear of her size. She was currently riding a cat, known as Sphynx. Othinus had arrived.

Needless to say, the room was shocked.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

**ACSCP-J (Omake non-cannon)**

**During the breach, in the Site Director office.**

"A waste of time he was, bad at strategy and arrogant. If it wasn't for the Intelligence department and your own shortcoming we would have lost as soon as we came. Now old friend, remove that mask of yours."

"No. You do it first, I also know your face." Answered the Director.

"No, you first!"

"Nu-uh, you first."

Orion looked, behind the screen, irritated at the Director.

"Okay, but we do it at the same time."

"Okay."

The two gripped their masks with their fingers, ready to remove them.

"Okay, in three, two, one, NOW!" Shouted Orion.

They both removed their masks deftly. However, Orion's face was not visible as another mask hid his face.

"Hahahahaha. I had a mask under my mask? CHECKMATE!" Laughed Orion in a generic bad guy laugh.

Conti began to shake, then laughter from her part was heard. Under his mask, Orion arched an eyebrow. Conti's face had for now been hidden and as she lifted her head, it was finally revealed. Her face was that of a blond man in his youth with blue eyes and a cocky smirk;

"You thought it was me, Conti, but no it was me, Dio!"

**A CERTAIN SCP**


	8. Team Gamma

Touma woke up from his troubled slumber as the alarm beeped. Opening his eyes, he was met with the sight of the bright white ceiling. He turned to the side to see the time, nine thirty in the morning. He had slept more than usual. He yawned as he got up from the bed.

Waking up in the Foundation was actually as normal as in any other place. He looked at the door and saw a covered platter, containing his breakfast, on the ground. First thing first, he went to the shower and washed before drying himself up and putting on a clean jumpsuit. Then, washed and dressed, he began to eat his simple breakfast, chocolate cereals in a bowl of milk accompanied by orange juice and toast with strawberry jam. He ate the thing silently, as no Class-D was present to keep him company. Eventually, he finished his breakfast and without anything to do, turned to the nearest entertaining device, the television. But as he was about to push the on button, knocks were heard coming from the door.

"Enter." He said, curious.

Wanda entered the room, smiling and the door slid close behind.

"Hello, how are you?"

"Fine, and you?" He answered.

"Good, good. Erm... So how do you like it here?"

"It doesn't really change you know." He said with a smile. "Just got a bit bigger."

She laughed awkwardly.

"I suppose so. And today, you have to meet some people. It's really important."

"Okay." Said Touma, intrigued. "You know who they are?" He asked.

"Let's say that... they will be colleagues." She answered.

He said nothing and followed her, two guards quietly tailing him at close distance. They walked through the unmarked corridors of the Site, meeting busy scientists and guards, who often said hello to their colleagues. Paper pushers carried piles of documents in the corridors, while janitors attended to the cleanness of the compound. Engineers were verifying different pipes and other machinery. Site-19 was a busy hive with hundreds of people all attending to a task, the halls and corridors were always filled with the sound of either walking or discussion.

Touma remarked the different SCP containment chamber, they passed one very interesting. It was one of a statue, its 'eyes' looking directly at the viewer, the marking 'Violent' was written in bold black letters near the number 173.

"A statue? A killing statue? How does it even work." He asked bewildered.

"..." Wanda looked at the guards who shrugged. "Basically the statue can move, but only when not seen, it will snap your neck or strangle you before you can say 'don't blink'. And yeah, don't blink."

"Whoa, that must be bad."

"And it isn't the worst." Answered Wanda.

"Really, what's the worst then?"

"Let's not talk about that." Interrupted one of the guards. "Ain't morning talk."

Touma nodded, increasingly becoming worried. Did they have some kind of Magic God around there or a powerful esper?

"Don't worry though. Here, we are in the Light Containment Zone. The SCPs there are mostly inoffensive, and if one escapes from the Heavy Zone, it will be recontained quickly." Said the second guard.

"Because they escape?" Asked Touma.

The two officers looked at each other. They had said too much. However, they were saved by Wanda.

"Alright, that's the room. You're dismissed." Said Wanda.

The two saluted and retreated, to report for another duty around the Site.

"Yes, ma'am."

Wanda swiped her keycard across the pad and the door opened with a beep. They both entered and were greeted by the sight of multiple people.

There was two group of soldiers. The first one wore an MTF uniform, a camo jacket and combat trousers with boots. They had a little patch on their shoulder, symbolizing a box with wings, 'Alpha-9, Team Gamma.' was written under it.

The first man was towering over anyone in the room, he measured at least two meters and had bulging muscles. His white head was shaved, except for a small brow Mohawk, his eyes were framed with black shades and he had a square jaw. His short sleeves let see a tattoo of the Canadian flag, with the words 'Oh, Canada..' written under it, the rank of corporal could be seen on his uniform. The first woman was white and of normal height, she had short ginger hair and blue eyes. Those eyes were currently glaring at Wanda for an unknown reason. The marking of first class was etched on her uniform.

The third soldier was a tall man, and white with a number of scars over his face, he had a brown beard framing his jaw, his head was shaved and his hazel eyes were scanning the room. One of his ears was missing and he looked like the grimmest person in the room, he was also a first class. The third man was black with short black fizzy hair and a strong jaw. He was of normal height and had an aura of calmness around him. He also had the marking of Fist class on his uniform.

The second woman was a lean and tall woman with straight black hair and black eyes. She had an air of quietness and discretion, while still retaining a sensation of wilderness despite her calm and cold demeanor. Strangely she seemed to be barely present. Her role as a specialist was indicated by the marking of a hunter trap in a sniper cross-hair. The fourth man of the group of soldiers was a short young man, who looked out of place. He had a specialist mark, showing a wi-fi signal downward with multiple circuits coming from the dot, coursing to the exterior, with crossed swords behind. He looked rather mousy and while had some muscle, it was nothing compared to the other soldiers. He had brown hair, dressed to the side and green eyes.

The last man of the group was in a different uniform. His was all black with a badge, on which was written 'Containment Specialist', his face was covered by a helmet with Four Optics Night Vision Goggles and a dark cloth, obscuring his lower face. His eyes were steely gray.

The last woman of the group also had a different uniform, she had another big white patch with a red cross on it. The word 'Medic' was etched on it. She had brown hair, tied in a ponytail and blue eyes. She had a forthcoming and friendly appearance.

The other group of soldiers was composed of five people, they had the same patch as the first group, with the only difference being 'Team Beta' instead of 'Gamma'. There was two man of tall height, they were twins with short auburn air. They were rather lean and their equipment was thinner, more discreet. They were also two women in combat uniform. One of them was Indian, with long black hair and eyes and had the same insignia as the male specialist from the first group. The second was a tall and lithe woman with platinum hair and blue eyes.

The most intriguing of the group, however, was the young woman in her early twenties. She had long blonde hair that fell to her backside, forming a mane of untamed golden hair. She had striking blue eyes and a matching shirt. Her eyes were rather sad but seemed to brighten up when she made eye contact with Touma. Unlike the soldiers, she did not have a uniform. She held in her arms, an old camera, from the eighties.

The two groups each at one end of a rectangular table, in the middle, resided a woman with shoulder-length blond hair. She had light blue eyes. She seemed to be in her forties and had crow feet around her eyes. She held herself in a cool assured manner, her eyes were scanning Touma, analyzing and calculating.

As Touma and Wanda stood near the table the woman got up and shook their hands.

"Hello, I am Dr. Sophia Light. The Director of MTF Alpha-9. People, I present to you Touma Kamijou, aka SCP-0000 and Sergeant Wanda Carter. They will be part of Team Gamma. Carter will lead the Elite Intervention Team of Gamma Team. Sergeant Carter is an ex Nu-7, highly trained. Mr. Kamijou, is an anomaly, with the power to erase them or temporary remove their abilities. Please, welcome them." Announced the woman.

The person assembled clapped politely. The attention was fixated on Touma, who shifted from a foot to another, uncomfortable. The only exception was the woman glaring at Wanda. She was beginning to get a little scared, the cold anger in the eyes of the woman burned, hiding all other sentiments. So it was under the augur of uneasiness that Touma and Wanda were introduced to their Mobile Task Force.

Dr. Light looked at her watch, frowning.

"The scientific staff should soon arrive. Well, they should have already been there."

On the cue, the door opened to let enter a small group of people. They all had the customary white lab coats. Mishimoto was among them, she seemed to glare at the leading man.

"Well, you took your sweet time Bright. I said to come at ten, it's past twenty!"

"Yeah, sorry I got a bit carried away greeting the newbies." Said a man with messy brown hair, he had a easy going smile on his lips and his brown eyes radiated care freeness. A medallion, composed of gold and diamond with an large ruby encased in it was hanging from his neck.

Light narrowed her eyes.

"Bright..." She began, menacingly.

"Don't worry Sophia." Bright noticed her dubious look. "No really, I swear I did nothing." Light kept looking at him. "Come on, nothing happened, nothing happened."

Sophia stopped, and during the blink of her eye, Bright winked mischievously at a short blonde man who reciprocated. None noticed the subtle action.

"Well, now that you are here I guess you ought to introduce yourselves." Ordered Light.

The staff approached the table presenting themselves. The first person, a short man with blonde hair and green eyes introduced himself first.

"Hello, I am Assistant Mobius. I specialize in Thaumatology." He said. "But I also study magicians and reality benders."

Mishimoto then stepped and presented herself.

"I am psychologist Mishimoto. I will be available for counseling sessions and other psychological matters.'"

Another man then spoke. He was white, shaved and had black eyes. His lab coat was dirtied with different chemical product and caked blood.

"Adam Alan, Researcher. Pleasure to meet you." He said, between his teeth.

Then it was Bright's turn.

"I am Dr. Bright! Senior Researcher, Director of personnel and Foundation bookie. At your service. Well not really actually." He introduced himself with flourish.

He turned to Touma, a grin on his face.

"So, it's you. The famous 'Imagine Breaker'." He said turning around Touma, examining him under every angle, getting uncomfortably close.

Suddenly he backed away.

"Wooops. Sorry, shouldn't be too close to you. Forgot that."

"You are an anomaly?" Asked Touma.

The answer was instant.

"NO!" Shouted Bright.

His eyes seemed darker, and his hair had seemingly rose in the air. He looked at Touma with steely eyes, far from the cheerful one he had a second ago. Light looked ready to run for the hills and everyone in the room were tensed. Touma gulped.

"I am normal, I am human." Declared Bright slowly, carefully enunciating each word.

Finally, the good doctor calmed down and his smile once again plastered his face.

"Pleasure to meet you Zero." He concluded.

"Me too, sir." Answered Touma, albeit a bit more meekly.

"You have manners, good." He said, a pleased smile on his face.

He turned back and faced Iris.

"Good day, Iris. How are you?"

"Ehm... Good, good, sir." She replied.

"Splendid." He said, he scanned the room before adressing to Light. "Where is 073?"

"Normally Team Alpha should have been present but they are currently elsewhere." Said Light. "I will leave you to it. Please try to introduce yourself to each other. I have to discuss important matters with the scientific staff."

Light and the four scientists exited the room, leaving it with a dozen soldiers and two SCPs.

The first group of soldiers, as they were strangers to each other were looking at each other with hesitation and distrust. The second group already had introduced themselves some time ago but were hesitating to greet the first group. The atmosphere in the room became tense for a moment before the woman with the red cross patch sighed and rolled her eyes upward.

She turned her head, toward the tallest man in the room, the one with a tattoo.

"What's up? My name is Mary, what's yours?" She asked him, in a friendly manner.

The man turned to look at her. His eyes were veiled by the shades he wore. He remained tense for a few moments before jovially responding, a friendly smile splitting his face.

"Name's McKenzie, Henry McKenzie. Pleased to meet you."

And thus presentation and discussion began.

"I'm Nathan Miles..." Said the scarred one.

"The name's Luan Botha..." Said the black man.

"Ansa Aho." Said the female specialist, soberly.

"Glenn Campbell, happy to meetcha." Said the second specialist, shyly.

"My name is Cameron Jensen." Said the man in black uniform.

The other group mingled with the first and started talking, Wanda soon joined them.

"William Abernathy. John Abernathy." Said the twin at the same time, pointing at each other. The twins could only be distinguished from one another thanks to William having an earing and John a piercing at his nose.

"I am Moira Patel." Said the Indian woman.

"My name is Jayden Granger." The platinum blonde woman said.

The blonde woman without uniform came to Touma to greet him.

"Hi." She began.

"Hello." Replied Touma.

"I'm Iris, Iris Thompson. So you're Kamijou Touma, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure go ahead." She said, smiling.

"You don't have a uniform and you have a camera. Why?" He asked, pointing at the old camera.

"Oh, um. You see, I'm like you. I am an SCP. 105 is my number. But please call me Iris. And as for the camera, well, it's kinda my power." She said, pushing strands of blond hair behind her ear. "When I photograph something, I can put my hand inside the photo and manipulate it. It will affect the real world and the things I change will also change."

"Wow. That's awesome!" Said Touma. "So you can touch things remotely just by putting your hands in a photograph. How did you gain the ability?"

"Always been there, I think. Why? You developed your power?"

"No, always had it too. It's just that from where I come from. People can develop abilities with a special program."

Her eyes widened.

"Really where do you come from?"

"Academy City." He said, he stopped as she saw her brows furrows. "Ah, yes it's in another dimension."

"Woah. You're a dimensional hopper. First time I see one in flesh and bone."

"There are other dimension hoppers?"

"Yeah, I heard some skips." She paused, as she saw that he did not understand the term. "It's short for SCPs." She explained and he nodded. "So, some skips are from other dimensions. I even heard that there are Foundation agents from another dimension and that they are reality benders."

"Woah, I did not know there would be others."

"So what's your thing, you erase anomaly?" She said a very curious look on her face.

"It depends, if it's totally anomalous, like a golem, then yes, it just disappears or if its a magic item. But someone like you won't get erased, you just lose your power while I touch you."

"You don't make their powers disappear forever?" She asked, a hint of disappointment.

"No, it's temporary." He answered.

"Oh okay.'

They continued to talk about everything and nothing for a bit before Touma was greeted by the soldiers. Henry, despite his foreboding appearance, was nice, Nathan was a bit quiet but not unpleasant. Luan was professional but still friendly. Ansa was discreet but nice. Glenn was shy but rather friendly. Mary was very friendly and warm, her opposite Cameron was strict and cold.

The twins were nice and cool. Moira was sympathetic, Jayden too, if a bit narcissistic. The only person to stay away was the one glaring at Wanda. It was becoming very uncomfortable for Wanda, thus she asked everyone about it. However, no one knew why.

As such Wanda decided to confront her about it. Her name was Karen, she had deduced it by elimination. She walked over to the glaring woman, who followed her.

"Hello. Can I ask you why you are glaring at me?" She said politely.

The woman did not respond and walked to another adjacent room.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Shouted Wanda, irritated.

The woman gestured her to follow her, apparently wishing her to come with her. Intrigued, Wanda followed her. Touma, who had remarked the strange exchange, broke his exchange with Iris and followed them from a respectable distance. He stayed out of the room they entered, as they closed the door.

"The problem, I have with you." Said Karen. "Is the fact that you are a murderer."

"Excuse me? The fuck you said?" Replied Wanda, her temper flaring. She killed people but for the good cause. To be accused by a fellow soldier to be a murderer was a serious offense. Especially if the said offender had herself bloodied hands.

"Exactly that. You. Are. A. Murderer. Wanna know why?" Asked Karen angrily.

Wanda said nothing but nodded.

"Walker, remind you of anything?" Said Karen.

And suddenly it hit her. Walker as Alan Walker. Looking at her, she saw the resemblances, same hair, and freckles, the nose was also similar. Walker. A rookie, she had failed him. His dead eyes looking at her with fear were now replaced by Karen's hate and tear-filled eyes.

"I know you were in his platoon. It's your fault that he died. Yours!"

"Wha... I.. I.. I.." stuttered Wanda. She was conflicted between her anger and PTSD. The face of both Walker flashing before her, morphing into one, separating. Her treacherous guilt rose from the depth of her being and drowned her under its tide.

"Tch. I don't want anything to do with you. I only obey the higher ups orders. I don't give a single fuck about you. On the field, I'll listen to you, because it is how it is. But don't expect to be all friendly with you and those two freaks." She said getting out of the room.

Wanda fell on her knees. As Karen got out, she crossed path with Touma. She glared at him, before huffing and getting out of the conference room. He entered the room, only to find Wanda, on her knees, defeated by her own guilt. He closed the door.

"Are you okay?" He asked, rushing by her side.

"I... I... It's all my fault." She said, on the verge of tears.

Touma took her in his arms as he began to sob quietly. He thanked the sound-proofness of this room. He had barely heard anything from the outside. He doubted the other, in their conversation, were hearing anything happening in there.

"What is your fault?"

"B-back in the forest, when were hunting that m-monster. There was a r-rookie. Alan W-walker. He died there. I-I should have protected him."

He put a hand on her back.

"It's not your fault. The only guilty there is this monster or its creator. Not you. You did your best, I know it." he said soothingly.

"But, i-I lied to him. T-told him it would be fine. He was so n-nervous" She protested.

"Sometimes, it's better to lie to comfort someone. You did the best you could. You cannot predict the future. No one can."

She looked at him, teary with a half smile.

"Well, some skips can. Too bad I'm not one." She laughed half-heartedly.

She then pulled Touma into a hug. He hesitantly reciprocated the action. He stroked her hair and kept whispering that it wasn't her fault. After a few moments, Wanda pulled herself together, she wiped the trace of tears from her face.

"Thanks, a lot." She said, giving him a full smile.

"No problem." Said Touma, scratching the back of his head.

She kissed his cheek and left the room thanking him once again. He watched her left with a slight blush on his face. He really hadn't expected that of her, Japanese were much more prude when it came to such matter. But she was British, that was maybe considered normal from where she came from. At least the soldiers assembled here hadn't seen her leave the room or him enter. He then got out and decided to join the main room, while still staying out of the conversation. However, what he did not see was that Iris had noticed the attitude of Karen, the entry of Touma and Wanda's leave. She also noticed the blush he sported, the slight trace of tears Wanda had, and her mind was currently working to deduce what had happened in there.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Former Site Director Conti finished drinking the liquid meal she had been given by the Insurgency. Her arms and feet were restrained by iron bars. The moment she finished a man in a military uniform stepped into the cell to take the liquid container. He was about to close the door when a sight made him stop, he stepped to the side, saluted and let the cause enter.

The person who entered was Orion. His black marked mask covering his face. He was dressed this time in a black officer military uniform. He closed the door, before making his way to Conti. He took a chair in the corner and put it before her, he sat, resting his elbows on the back of the chair.

Silence reigned between the two for a moment. The eyes of the two enemies boring into each other, a silent battle raged between the two. It was a battle of character, like kids, it was the one who turned away the first who would lose. However as the battle carried on, more and more feelings were exchanged. Hate, resentment, growing fear, all coming from Conti. Sorrow, regrets and growing determination from Orion.

Finally, Conti broke away from Orion, signifying his victory. This time, however, there was no smugness coming from the man. He only sighed and faced the floor.

"What am I going to do with you?" He asked, not particularly addressing his captive.

"Weren't you going to make me a slave? Make me work against my will? Drug me with amnestics. MAKE ME FORGET MY WIFE? THE WIFE YOU WERE THERE TO SEE ME MARRY." Screamed Conti, her hatred pouring itself out of her, like a tsunami.

After a small moment of silence, Orion replied.

"That was the... original plan. Or at least what most believed." He looked at her. "I had to say so, especially in front of my men."

"And so? What is your plan now?"

Orion sighed. He reached over to his mask and pulled it off. Conti leaned forward to observe him. However due to the bad lightning, only the zone around his left, amber, eye could be seen.

"Is that..." She began to ask.

"Yes, it is a fake one." Said Orion, touching his fake left eye. "A parting gift from Alpha-1. They are not so bad at their jobs." He chuckled.

As she observed him, she noticed that the visible part of his face was singed. The flesh was naked and twisted, red. He also lacked an eyebrow. Treacherous feelings of friendly care arose from long occulted memories. Orion noticed her looks and touched his face, lightly, he passed his fingers over the burnt flesh.

"It does not hurt anymore, I just have to keep it clean." He said softly.

"But enough about me, my dear." He said, reporting his attention back on Conti. "My dear, dear Jeanne. I loathe to admit it but I do not wish to remove your very memories from you. I do not wish to make you a mindless puppet, you can be much, much more than that."

"T-." Began Conti.

Orion placed a gloved finger on her mouth to silence her.

"No, my dear." He said sadly. "I am not this man anymore. While I may retain his memories, he is dead, Orion is now the mind controlling the corpse. This man died the same day his illusions were burnt away."

Conti gulped and spoke once more.

"Orion. We both know I will not work with you on my own free will."

"I know. And this is why I have come to a compromise." He said, he put a hand in his right breast pocket and took out an electronic miniature chip. "While I do not appreciate, I will make you work under duress. You will retain all your memory and personality. This chip, I hold here is a psycommunication device. It will allow us to speak telepathically. It is undetectable. It holds, however, a little tweak. Should you betray us and I will know, this little device will inject a powerful amnestics, you will forget everything about Alice and the Insurgency, and even the Foundation in a fraction of seconds. You will be a mole within the Foundation."

"So basically." Said Conti, arching an eyebrow. "You don't erase my memories, but do it if I don't do as exactly as you tell me to do. You don't want me to be a slave, but that sounds just like it."

"Well." Spoke Orion, throwing his arms in the air, in exasperation. "It's that or brainwashing or imprisonment, until death."

"How generous of you." She said sarcastically.

Orion sighed, putting his mask back on.

"I cannot offer you more." He got up. "That's the best I can do. You will retain your freedom, only under slight duress."

"Can you at least remove this shackles, please?" Asked Conti.

"You won't try to attack the poor lad serving your food, my dear?"

She sighed.

"No." Was the simple answer from Conti.

"Very well." Said Orion, he opened the cell and called the jailer so he could open the restraints. Soon Conti rubbed her sore, but free limbs.

They were alone once again.

"I only ask you to think about it, for now. I will come back in three days. Then I will take your answer.'

"Very well." Replied Conti, her eyes drifting toward the ceiling.

Orion approached the door to leave but before he turned his head, peering at her.

"I am sorry. But what I do is for the good of humanity. The needs of the many outweigh those of the few."

The door clanked as it closed once more.

"if only you did what was good." Sighed the woman casting her eyes downward. "My friend."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Senator Willis was currently drinking his coffee. He was comfortably seated on his couch, situated in his living room. The mansion he was in was in the northern countryside of San Francisco. The mansion was surrounded by green fields of lush grass who were themselves under the shade of beautiful pines, standing proud. Willis opened the newspaper and began to read through the local paper. He ripped the political pages, he had enough of that at Washington to not pursue him here.

His wife, Claire, sat on the couch next to him, he kissed her good morning. They had been married for nearly forty years and, despite all the pressure of their respective job, had managed to stay together and happy.

She was about to engage in small talk with her husband when the door of their cozy mansion was violently rammed. Dozen of men in dark clothing stormed the room. They wore unmarked black clothes and masks, covering their identity and allegiance. Some wore bulletproof vests, while most just had black vests and k-way covering them. They were, however, all armed with firearms and quickly surrounded the two seniors.

"How dare y-" Said Willis, rising from his seat, his face red with anger. He was pushed back by one of the men, back into his couch.

"Your bodyguards are all dead, phone lines are cut, and vehicles destroyed. You are now surrounded by twenty-three armed men. With twenty other in the other part of the mansion. I advise you to let yourself be restrained."

The man which the voice belonged to was a tall man, his face was covered by a white mask with five red vertical lines, a black hood hid his hair and he was dressed in an open black coat, which let them see a black sweater and black pants. His voice was rather youthful, which contradicted his tallness and appearance. Five people in similar clothes escorted him, however, their masks had only three red lines dividing them.

"I am a Senator of the Uni-" Protested Willis.

"We are not here for you." Interrupted the man. "We are here for your wife."

"My wife? She is a lawyer!" Lied the senator.

"Do not play innocent. You know, just like me, that she is Deputy Chief of the staff of the UIU." Countered the man.

"Wh- What are you talking about?" Asked Claire, playing the ignorant.

The man took a file in the pocket of his coat and threw it at the woman. Claire caught it and scoured through it rapidly. She put the file on the table and looked back at the man. Her eyes had changed from scared and confused from steely and calculating.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Scowled the woman.

"Only the list of all employees of the Unusual Incident Unit. From the Director to the fucking janitors. Addressees, names, faces, family, I want it all. Understood?"

"Even if I wanted, I cannot give you this list. It is physically impossible." Answered back Claire. "The full list of personnel is not kept by me. Especially not in this house."

"I know. This is why you are now my hostages. You will be spared should the list be delivered in exactly... twenty-four hours. Past this delay, you will be executed. Having your husband be a Senator will surely speed up the process." Explained the man, laughing darkly.

He turned away, his small cadre of white-red mask following him. He took the mobile phone of Claire, who was on a small table and scrolled through the different contacts. He finally arrived at the researched name and called the number.

"Yes, Secretary of Mr. Johnson, hello. What can I do to help you?" Came a feminine voice.

"You can call me Houdini. And I want you to transmit this message to the Director of the UIU, this Mr. 'Johnson', I know it's not his real name. Listen carefully and repeat this to him, to the exact letter." Houdini took a deep breath. "Tell him this: I, Houdini, leader of the Magic First, demands the list of the entirety of the personnel of the Unusual Incidents Unit, including him with all their personal information. I want the list to be delivered in digital and paper at the mansion of Claire and Marcus Willis. I also want safe passage for both my group and myself. The conditions must be met in twenty-four hours or the blood of Claire and Marcus Willis will be on your hands ." Instructed the Houdini.

He hanged up the phone and turned back to his cadre and commanded them.

"Prepare the runes. The UIU SWAT is coming."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

" **Are you certain?"** Asked O5-4.

"Absolutely." Declared The Administrator.

He was dressed in a beige greatcoat and sported a black tweed cap on his head. He was currently in his office with both O5-9 and O5-4.

"Deploying Alpha-9, especially Team Gamma so early may cause their deaths." Countered the Russian woman.

"I am sure they will handle themselves just fine." Replied The Administrator. "It will be their trial by fire."

The two O5 looked at each other, concerned.

" **We know you can overrule, us O5, but the rest will not be as eager to send Gamma in the fray, so early. Placing them in Alpha-9 has arisen their worries. The decision barely passed the vote and now, Alpha-9 is more fragile than ever. Do remember that the Council can still match your power when united."**

"Is that a threat 4?" Asked The Administrator, his eyes darkening themselves.

**"Of course not, sir. I am the one who proposed Omega-7 and Alpha-9 in the first place. But you know that the Council still has its reservation about it, even the ones in favor. The Council still has the power to disband 'Last Hope' or Team Gamma, and even you would be powerless to stop it."**

The Administrator turned his back to the O5, turning his chair.

"And this is the exact reason of sending Team Gamma. Should they succeed, the Council will have to recognize their necessity. Should they fail, well Zero will be used simply as an on-site tool."

The female O5 rose from her seat and slammed her hands on the table.

"Administrator, with all my respect. Have you no thought about the possibility that Zero will die?!"

"It's very simple. It won't."

The Russian O5 stepped back, and with a look of pure exasperation resigned.

"Very well, I hope you know what you are doing."

"As always." Replied The Administrator.

The two O5 exited the room, bidding their farewells to their superior, who replied in kind. The Administrator then got up, before taking a bottle of martini from his closet. He poured himself a glass and sat back in the comfy leather chair. He took a deep sniff of the beverage and opened his eyes in surprise.

"Rot?" He asked in surprise.

The stench of rot had assaulted his nose, a powerful gut wrenching scent. One that made your head sway and emptied your stomach. It was everywhere, it came from the floor, the ceiling, the walls, the furniture and even himself. Moreover, it had a feeling of wrongness, as if it did not belong in this world. By reflex two arms slipped from his greatcoat. They were two very different arms. One was that of a bear with a huge paw and deadly claws, the furry appendage came from the small opening of the coat and was aggressively swiping the air before him. From the collar of the greatcoat slithered a disembodied human arm, it was inscribed with strange red runes and pentagram. The arm swiped slowly the air before him, like a radar.

The Administrator himself took his cane, who rested against his desk and a strange handgun, which was put on the desk. For a few minutes, his eye darted to each corner of the room, he turned to look at every possible angle before relaxing as the scent disapeared.

"Damn nose. I should probably change body soon, this one may be failing." He grumbled to himself, retracting the arms in the depth of his coat.

He fell back in his seat and drank the glass in one shot. He licked his lips, downed the entire glass, and rested his head against the back of the leather chair.

"You better survive this Zero." He grumbled once more.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Touma laid on his back, sprawled on his bed. After all this excitement he barely had a moment to think. And the more he thought, the more an idea kept popping in his head. Did the Foundation really do what was good?

Karim's memories, which had almost became his, had left him with a bitter tone of the Foundation; What they made him do was horrible and lawless. Thefts, assassinations, possessions, and intimidation were some of his most horrible missions. All ordered to advance and benefit the Foundation. But was it to help humanity? That he did not know.

What he saw, or rather remembered was rather fuzzy and veiled by the rage, despair, regrets, and sorrow of Karim. The reasons for those missions were either long forgotten or kept secret from him. He bet on the latter, as it would be more probable.

From what he saw of the Foundation it was almost all negative. They had rebels who also fought for the good of humanity. Would there be rebels if the Foundation really did help humanity, or were those rebels lying to recruit him? It was nearly impossible to know. Both sides each had reasons to lie to him, after all, and despite all his bragging about being normal, he knew he was unique and a key piece in the grand game of the abnormal world.

There was also the possibility that both sides did believe they were doing the good and just had a different opinion on each's methods. This impression was reinforced by the what Wanda and Cl-Monika had said to him.

For now, he would wait. He would wait and see. Should the Foundation proves to be evil, he would... figure out something. His train of thoughts was broken as the door of his chamber opened. From it came Dr. Light, dressed in her lab coats. She had a serious expression on her face.

"Congratulation for your first mission. Ready to save a hostage?' She asked.

**A CERTAIN SCP**


	9. Hostage Rescue and Insurgents

Senator Willis' mansion was surrounded by dozens of police vehicles. Cars and armored truck were currently parked hazardously around the house. The Federal Bureau of Investigation had quickly responded to the hostage taker and were currently devising a plan to rescue the Senator and his wife. However, the FBI SWAT was not alone as their secret counterparts the Unusual Incident Unit was also present. Strangely, Gary Michael Cohen, the Director of the FBI had sent the UIU to help the SWAT and, disbelief and suspicion fueled discussions had started to rise through the rank.

"Why are the UIUseless here? They even took control of the operation!" Asked an agent to his comrade, outraged.

"The ransom is the entire list of UIU personnel, or so I've heard." Answered a second agent.

"Really? Who cares about the dumbasses? I don't even know why they exist. I mean, they do what? Control magicians? I mean the guy in here say he is one." Said the first agent jokingly, chuckling at the absurdity.

"Don't know. Friend of mine told me they got a gun with infinite ammo. Probably bullshit, but eh I heard the pay is great in the department."

"Fuck'em, we're busting our asses on the field. And what they do? 'Investigate' on paranormal shit. Why not alien while they're at it? We should be paid more."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

As the two agents fell into a critic of the UIU, the criticized ones were in a tight cluster, out of ear range of any other FBI operatives.

"You think it really was a good idea?" Asked a first agent.

"Foundation's used to deal with that magical shite. We're just gonna get everyone slaughtered if we go in there alone. We'll lose the Deputy Director and a Senator if we fookin fail, we'll be lucky if we're still alive after this shite."

"They shouldn't be far now. They'll probably arrive in..." Said a third agent, checking his watch. "Twenty minutes."

"You know who they're sending, boss?" Asked a fourth agent, to a fifth man to the Chief Security Operator, the current leader of the operation.

"I heard the skippers are sending a team with a can man."

"A can man? I thought they kept them in cells."

"What can I say. I even heard they have a team of can men full of undead cyborg or some crazy sci-fi shit like that."

"I call bullshit on that. But, still, what do you think the can man will do?"

"Dunno launch fireballs, kill people while looking at'em. But the skippers told me they'd have to... ya know make us forget what we saw."

"Ah fuck, amnestics? I don't want that in my brain." Protested an agent.

"Well it's that or you get an 'accident'. Really, it's not optional. The skippers were pretty clear."

"Well, fook." Sighed the second agent. "At least we'll get all the credit. Could ask for a pay raise out of this."

"And if you die they pay the funeral and send money to your family, a lot of money. Well, I'd rather not die, but, eh, I ain't a psychic." Said the first.

The Chief Operator broke off from the group as they continued their chatter about the Foundation. He took a cigar, lighted it and brought it to his lip. The smoke burned down his trachea but after a few moments his nerves finally calmed down and he relaxed. He looked at the vast expanses of forests before him, then turned back to the sad sight of the surrounded mansion.

The house was covered with strange runes, pentagrams and the like of a myriad of colors. A banner was stretched across the front with 'Magic First' being written over it in black bold letters. He took a puff from his cigar. What a fucking day, he thought. He was good with chasing down little carts like the one he had in his holster. But magic hostage taker? Fuck that.

Speaking of which, he dug into the recess of his jacket and pulled out a pistol. A classic Desert Eagle, fifty calibers, seven rounds in the magazine, the number '1296' was etched on the grip. Mechanically he removed the clip and started to count the bullets and ejected them. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven... he stopped at thirty and put the bullets back in the clip. This simple action finished to calm him.

He did wonder what kind of can man the Foundation was sending. If it warranted the use of amnestics then it was probably an eldritch horror which predated the dawn of mankind and feasted on the soul of virgin maidens. After so many years in the UIU, he did not know what to expect from the skippers.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

In an abandoned and hidden tunnel of Los Angeles was hidden Unit Sleight Hand. The Unit's goal was to capture SCP-0000, also nicknamed The Voidman. Her ginger hair was tied in a ponytail and she was dressed in workout clothes, a white tank top, and trousers. She was in the training room of the base and was for now sparring in hand to hand combat with Orion, who himself was dressed in his usual outfit, his mask, and his black military uniform. She delivered a powerful kick towards the man stomach who blocked it with his crossed forearms. He retaliated with a hook to her head, which she ducked under. She then swiped his legs, he messily fell on his butt, trying to retain a semblance of balance but a kick to the face finally made him go down on the floor.

The match was over, and Monika relaxed, making her way to Orion. He suddenly grabbed her leg and pulled hard, making her fall on the floor. He then proceeded to restrain her by putting her arm behind her back and pressing his knee on her back.

"And this is why you must double tap an opponent, and carefully." He instructed her while relaxing his hold over the girl and she got up. "Well done, you have progressed a lot since last time." He told her, a hint of pride in his voice.

He put his hand on her shoulder and behind his mask, unseen, smiled.

"You are free for the rest of the day, until the reunion after dinner." He announced her.

"Thank you, sir." She said with a smile of her own.

She left, walking by the entrance. She went to the shower, washing, and dressing in clean clothes. She slipped in a gray t-shirt and took a skinny jean, finally she covered herself with a white hoodie. Monika strolled through the corridors of the base, it was a small complex of gray tunnels and small side rooms that stretched under Los Angeles, just sideways to its subway network. The only entrance to the base was heavily guarded by hidden sentries, equipped with firearms and amnestics.

She walked through the slithering network of tunnels to finally arrive at her room. As a special agent, she had the privilege of owning a room for herself in the complex. It was of average size and had a one-person bed in one of its corners, a small desk with a laptop resting on it, in the opposite corner. A small stack of books was on the floor, due to the lack of any shelf. She laid on her bed and took a look at the alarm clock on her nightstand, it was four.

She took a book from the stack. It was a book of espionage, she actually bought it to compare what people thought espionage was and infiltration and the reality of those shadow jobs. It was laughable, the civvies thought it was a romantic job, it came with its harshness and sacrifices, but in the end, the spy always triumphed and got the girl. It occulted the grimness of the situation and the psychological problem that often came with the job. Spies were also the less noticeable possible instead of being beautiful people whose everyone's eyes were set on. But, shamefully, she had to admit that what she did to Touma had actually come straight from the same book she was holding, she blushed. She was no femme fatale, she was a weapon, a blade designed to strike, she shook herself.

She did not feel like reading... What could she do? There were very few things to do in the base, except for training and reading. The Internet connection was solely restricted to the higher echelons of the Insurgency and one could not get out, it was restricted due to the possibility that one could share intel with rival agencies up there.

She decided to take a short walk around the base, it was small but she had not explored its entirety, and she had nothing better to do. She decided to go to the eastern side of the base, the one she had not explored.

On the way she passed many Insurgency soldiers, most of the staff in the base was composed of military elements with few Engineers and other miscellaneous personnel, since most of the jobs could be undertaken by the soldiers. She finally reached the eastern side, there were very few people there, the lack of rooms and interesting things was the cause of it. The boring gray and humid corridors seemed to entomb her in this vast complex. As she was mindlessly walking she noticed a little, nearly unnoticeable door in a shadowy corner of the tunnel. Intrigued, she opened the door and was met with a ladder. Despite the ambient darkness she estimated that it climbed to the surface.

She hesitated for a moment, climbing this ladder may cause her some problems. But in the end, her bored and adventurous spirit took hold of her and she decided to climb the ladder, slowly first but the more she ascended, the faster she went. After a few minutes, she finally reached the top of the ladder. She noticed a plate was blocking her, she pushed with one hand, hard, and the plate came off. Light flooded the small conduit and she had to cover her eyes. It was blinding to see the sunlight after days underground with only electric light to illuminate the complex.

Curious, she poked her head out. The street was desert with only a stray cat hissing at her. She hesitated once more, here was her ticket to relive her boredom, but doing so would be disobeying Orion's orders. She bit her lips, she had always been taught by him to obey his orders. On the other hand, she had done a lot on her part, she was allowed a break right? She was loyal to the Insurgency and would never betray the Insurgency or sell their secrets to anyone. Yup, she deserved it.

Scanning around, she made sure no one was here. Satisfied she sprang from the conduit and finally landed on the sunbathed surface. She dusted herself, verifying she had no identification mark on herself. She had none, her clothes were the same as any civilians. Whistling a happy tune she got out of the side streets and was greeted by the sight of the busy metropolis of Los Angeles. Monika found herself on a boulevard, which was filled with cars and people. Each settling to their mundane life, some went to work, some were shopping, alone or with friends.

Friends... Something Monika did not have. The only people who could qualify for such a position could be Touma, and even there this 'friendship' was based around a lie. She sighed as she thought about him. He was probably stuck in his cell, deep in Site-19, deep under the Mojave desert. The thought saddened her, he did not deserve that. She swore that the Insurgency would deliver him from the clutches of the monster that was the Foundation. The agent thought back to the blond Foundation woman with the smug smile and trench knife. What a bitch. She would enjoy killing her herself. The insurgency, in the end, would make Touma see the truth and triumph over the Foundation and the GOC, bringing humanity into a golden age.

She sighed, for now, there was nothing she could do. She breathed deeply to exorcise the anger that had begun to slowly but surely appear, and as she did so, she caught the light scent of the sea. She had only smelled this perfume, one time when she was a kid. It was before... before all of this. Dispelling these thoughts, she began to walk toward the origin of this odor (a changer), the sea wind becoming stronger and stronger as she walked toward it. After a few minutes of walking into the city, the city life was buzzing around her, people walking left and right. The chatter and music assaulting her ears, normally accustomed to the silence of secret base, was beginning to confuse her.

Finally, she arrived at a beach, a dozen people were on it. At this time of the day and the year, few ever went to the beach. She looked the name of the beach on a nearby plate. Santa Monica beach. Eh, what a coincidence. She strolled toward the sand, as she walked on it, her shoes were invaded by the small grains. She bent and removed her shoes and her socks. Her bare feet pressed against the cold sand, little grains sticking between her toes. She walked closer to the sea and stopped just at the edge. Drinking in the sight of the long and seemingly infinite sea, thought about the Insurgency and the Foundation melted like snow before the sun. The sound of waves lulled her, calming and relaxing her. A bigger wave suddenly hit her, breaking her from her daydreaming. The water was cool and fresh. Reinvigorating. She rolled up her jeans, so the hem arrived mid-calf. She slowly advanced in the water, first dipping her toes, then her feet before finally dipping her calf, stopping as to not wet her jeans.

As she looked to the horizon, legs in the sea, she never felt so relaxed, so normal. She was not special Agent Hex, D-1405, Clara McLaren or another fake personality, she was Monika, Monika Engel. She was herself. How it was peaceful, to not worry about anything, no training session, no secret reunion with shadowy figures, no mission, no risk about being exposed as an infiltrator and the absence the ever-present feeling of death. None of that.

She stayed there for a few minutes. Her body began to send her signals to get out of the water, the feeling in her legs began to disappear due to the cold and so she got out of the water. Taking her shoes in her hand she walked back to the sand-less part of the beach, there she sat and waited for her feet to dry. When they were, she removed the sand and finally slipped back her sock and shoes on her feet.

Once again she began to walk in Los Angeles. She witnessed the mundane life of the denizen of the City of Angels. However, the locals were far from being angels as she witnessed pickpockets and different petty thefts. She did not intervene, it was better to keep a low profile, it was nothing really important. As she was walking down the streets of the city, she was pushed by a man, walking fast, he muttered a quick excuse, his face hidden by a cap. She was not having it. She caught him by the arm and pulled it behind his back, he was about to protest but she put a finger over his lips.

"My phone." She said softly.

"What? Don't know what you talking about, miss." He said. Despite this, he knew it was too late.

"Give it back, and nothing will happen."

"What you gonna do, you b-" He began with bravado.

A quick punch to his groin stopped him.

"I can hurt you a lot." She whispered.

Busy as the passerby were, nobody had noticed them or if they had, they were ignored.

"Okay, okay... there take it."

He said handing her her phone. She let go of him, not uttering another word. As she walked away, she twirled between her hands the twenty dollarS note she had taken him. It wasn't theft if it was already stolen goods right? Well, she assumed it already had been stolen. She was beginning to feel hungry and bought some cookies at a store. The sugary chocolate goodness did not last long and soon she had devoured the entire batch of cookies. Rarely had she eaten something this good, well not after... after that. She was accustomed to the Insurgency rations of what passed for foods at the Foundation's D-block.

She finally arrived after random turns to a park, which she entered. A bit of green would be welcome. She entered the park, it was winter and the trees had no leaves, the birds were not singing. No matter, Monika laid on the grass. It was fresh and a little moist. The sun was shining and a few clouds were hiding the plain blue sky, a light breeze caressed the park.

She stayed there for some moments, this little stroll had done a wonder to relax her, she should do it more often. And as she laid there, she realized how tired she was, how tired... tired... ti-.

Her eyes closed and before she could do anything she fell into a resting sleep.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Orion was currently at his desk, on his laptop. He was reviewing a security tape of an Insurgency hideout.

_The walls of the hideout explode, chunks of the wall go flying, killing the guards stationed there. flashbang go off blinding the rest. Dozen_ _S_ _of figures in dark military clothing enters and kill the guards with ease. One of them looks at the camera and sh_ _oot_ _S_ _it. The soldier_ _S_ _progress in the hideout, Insurgency's resistance is minimal and all are killed, the officers are captured for questioning. As the soldiers progress they shoot all the cameras._

_Finally, the group arrives at a prison. They capture the jailer, interrogate him, and enter the room, rifle_ _S_ _raised. In there is a single woman. She screams in fear as the soldiers enter the room, shouting. She calms down when she hears them. They are from the Foundation, they managed to attack the hideout before she could be sent to a special center in order to get brainwashed. She holds back tears, she has to show no weakness after all. And regally she departs with the soldier. She takes a quick look at the camera than none noticed and imperceptibly nods, her face blank._

Orion laid back in his siege. All went according to plan. A smug smile began to make his way on his face, how easy to dupe those Foundation's goons. Throw in some evidence 'proving' she refused his offer, then lie about brainwashing her later. Leak intel to a Foundation mole and voila! One high ranking spy without feeling too bad.

He was relieved to hear that Conti had accepted his offer, erasing her memory to convert her would have been too painful for him. What he did was in the best interest of humanity. Yes, in its best interest.

He looked at the hour, seven twenty-nine, and barely a second later a little alarm rang through the base as the clock hit seven thirty. It was dinner time. He got up, exited the room and calmly walked to the mess hall. His worries were for now appeased, Conti had been dealt with in the second-best way possible and he managed to dupe the Foundation. For now, all was good.

He finally entered the mess hall where around seventy persons were assembled. The Unit was rather small but composed of elite elements which would give any Special Forces a run for its money. He calmly walked to a table reserved for officers, in his path men and women saluted him, he returned their salute by nodding his head.

Each member of this Unit had been handpicked by him personally, each had unquestionable loyalty toward the Insurgency.

Finally, he sat at the table, near the Lieutenant, the leader of the Special Forces. The man was currently cleaning a magnum pistol with a rag. As Orion neared the table, he snapped to attention and saluted.

"Good day, sir. How are you?" He asked politely.

"Very good, and you Lieutenant?" He counter asked the man.

"Splendid. The operation is greatly advancing, sir. I cannot wait for some action, sir."

"I know. Do not worry you will soon be on the field." Said Orion lightly chuckling.

He scanned the room as everyone was served with the day's dish, composed of meat ration coupled with vegetables and water. The officers also ate the same food as their lower rank counterparts. Nearly everyone in the base was here with the exception of sentries on duty and the like. Orion noticed the absence of Monika. Intrigued he turned to the Lieutenant who had removed the lower part of his gas-mask, letting his bleach white scarred skin for all to see.

"Have you seen Agent Hex? She normally eats with us."

"I cannot say I have seen her since your sparring, sir. Do you want me to ask someone else, sir?"

"No. No need to bother someone else." He finished.

Orion did not eat, he just watched and talked with those who did. He did not want his face to be seen but still preferred to stay with the Unit. As the end of the dinner drew near, he grew worried as he did not see Monika arrive.

"What are you doing?" He asked himself.

"Hmm? You said something, sir?" Asked the Lieutenant.

"Nothing. Enjoy your dessert." He answered.

As everyone left he reminded the special agents and the officers of the meeting about to take place in thirty minutes. He himself departed for his own room. It was a modest room with the essentialS to work. There he removed his mask and began to eat, in near darkness. He did not like knowing light to be shining upon his face when it was bare. His frugal meal was the same as any member of the base. Disgusting but he had no need for good food. He looked at the photo on the nightstand. It was a photo of two women, each wearing wedding dresses, they were laughing, one had brown hair, the other blond. Another woman was in the background, she was also smiling. The last figure on the photo was a man, his upper face had been torn away, leaving only half a smile to be seen. He looked away and lightly shook his head.

He finished his meal just in time to get to the reunion at the exact hour. As he entered the room he noticed with satisfaction that everyone was here and ready. His satisfaction quickly disappeared and a frown marred his face as he noticed Monika's chair to be empty. Where was she? Those reunions were mandatory.

However, he had to act regally and as such only showed a little frustration on purpose, showing his displeasure before continuing as if nothing happened. The reunion was about logistics and administration process, nothing important for Monika. But still, he was beginning to worry.

As the reunion ended he decided to go to her bedroom.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

The plane transporting Team 'Imagine Breakers' finally landed at an airstrip, the team was soon embarked in an SUV, to be brought to the Senator's mansion. Touma was reminiscing the quick briefing he had from Light.

" _Sorry to get you on a mission so soon. But Team Gamma is the only available MTF to be deployed in time and to fit the requirements."_

" _What do I have to do?" He asked, eager to help._

" _Save hostages from terrorist magicians. Neutralize them if possible."_

" _Alright."_

_Light turned toward him, in disbelief._

" _Alright? You are taking this very well, too well."_

_"What can I say, I'm cool-headed." He said chuckling. Damnit, that was really suspicious._

_Light said nothing and kept walking. They entered the meeting room they were_ _in_ _before. The entirety of Team Gamma was assembled. The research staff was currently reviewing info about the terrorists._

" _So." Began Light. "The situation is the following: The UIU asked us for help concerning this terrorist attack. For those who are unfamiliar with them, they are the FBI's attempt to deal with the supernatural. Note the word attempt. The UIU is a joke, for the FBI and for the paranormal one. They are actually as efficient as the FBI, they have the same training and are great for investigating. Problem is they have no experience dealing with the supernatural and are severely underfunded._ _Luckily_ _since we're both the good guys we help each other. Basically, the UIU investigates what's Unusual and if they discover something important they report it to us. We do the containment for them let them keep anomalous but unimportant objects so they keep their funding and everyone's happy." She explained._

_"Now about those terrorists." Began Mobius. "They are Thaumaturgists, type green and maybe magicians, type blue. We can see they are type green because of the numerous runes on the house. They can also be magicians but, for now, we have no proof. The strategy we have for now established is the following. Mr. Kamijou will block any magical attacks and dispel the runes. The rest of the task force will stay behind. Specialist Aho will provide sniper fire and the research staff will help as overseer commanders. Team Gamma_ _objectives_ _are the following: neutralization of the magician, saving the hostages if possible, the UIU will normally handle that, the capture of the ringleaders if possible. The UIU will handle the other terrorists. They are also magicians but are weak according to a short skirmish between the SWAT and the terrorists."_

" _Questions?" Asked Light._

" _How many hostiles?" Asked Aho._

" _Between forty and fifty."_

" _Allies number?" Asked McKenzie._

_"Fifty-seven armed agents. Twenty from the UIU SWAT, the rest from the normal FBI SWAT."_

" _Hostage casualties?" Asked Miles._

" _Unacceptable."_

" _Revendications?" Asked Botha._

_"The entire list of UIU personnel. We cannot let the UIU be the target of the terrorist group. It could be a disaster and_ _we_ _would lose one of our main partners. Furthermore_ _Magic First is a Group of Interest under surveillance from us. We let them slip and we have to assume this mistake."_

" _We depart in thirty minutes. Get prepared."_

And thus Touma was sent to save two hostages with a team of elite soldiers. They finally arrived at a large mansion. It was situated next to a forest but the numerous police vehicles disposed around were ruining the view. They arrived just to see two disturbing sights. The FBI's agents were currently aggressively talking with the UIU, they looked ready to fight rather than talk. The UIU seemed to try to explain something with little success.

Near the mansion were three men in military fatigues. One of them was currently bugling in a voice amplifier.

"Surrender and you will be let free. The SWAT is curr-"

A shout, magically amplified came from the house.

"GO FUCK YOURSELF, YA FUCKING NORMIES. WE GETTING THAT LIST OR NOTHING SHITHEAD, KEEP TALKING AND WE BLAST YOU ASS."

"Please, we can talk like civ-" The negotiator had no time to answer.

The leader of the terrorists had poked his head out of a window and before the snipers could do something he launched a bolt of fire. The bolt hit the negotiator square in the face setting him alight. His screams filled the courtyard and he began to run away, to a pond. The fire consumed his clothes and his shrill cries amplified. He then jumped in the pond but even there the fire kept burning and too fast for any normal fire, his body was consumed under the fire. Ashes fell to the bottom of the pond, darkening it once pristine water.

Nobody spoke as they registered what happened. Then the Chief Operator sighed and lowered his cap.

"Good grief."

The FBI agents exploded, death threats were launched at both the terrorist and the UIU.

"WHAT THE FUCKING HELL WAS THAT. WHY AREN'T WE DOING SOMETHING. THEY ARE ACTUAL FUCKING MAGICIANS. WE SHOULD BOMB THE FUCKING HOUSE."

The Chief looked at the talker calmly.

"Calm down son. Remember what you said. We're a goddamn joke. And bombing the mansion is probably not a good idea. The real deal is behind you."

The agents turned around, to see Team Gamma. They were greeted by the sight of nine soldiers, five scientists, and a young Japanese boy.

"Hey, skipper." Said Light to the Chief.

"Who are you?" Asked one of the FBI's officers.

"Special Californian Protection. We are an elite paramilitary organization, we have a contract with Deputy Claire Willis and her husband. We're used to dealing with magicians." Lied Light.

"What the-" Said the officer.

"Don't worry Pimento, they're legit."

"And the lab coats?

"We are here to analyze the data." Simply replied Bright.

"Pimento, move, I know'em, they're legit. And if you don't then it's normal."

The officer still looked at the man with suspicion but the steely look of the UIU's chief finally vanquished him and he stopped. The Chief invited them to follow him to a more secluded place. He gestured to the rest to not follow them, except for two officers.

"I'm Chief Graham. So who's the can man you brought?" He asked the Light.

"This is Mr. Kamijou, he is the 'can man' as you call him." Explained Light.

Touma stepped forth, as Graham's sight settled on him. The man analyzed him for a few seconds before he burst into laughter.

"Hahahaha. No really. Who is it? Is it him?" He said pointing at Henry. "Or him." pointing at Bright who scowled.

As nobody answered and kept looking at him with weird looks he finally realized his mistake.

"Oh... so... it's really him." He said. "Sorry, kid."

Touma shrugged.

"So... uh, what does he do? If I may ask?"

"Mr. Kamijou." Replied Light. "Is able to erase or temporary neutralize supernatural items or powers."

"Neat." Replied the Chief. "I guess that's ultra-secret and I will get brainwashed or killed?"

"Your memories of this team will indeed be removed. However, in exchange, you will earn the credit and fame for saving those two VIPs and putting down this gang. I'm sure Director Cohen will raise your funding after such an incident."

"Sure, sure. Just don't mess anything else in there." Agreed to the Chief, tapping his head.

"Don't worry about that. Operation Hector Loki." Said Bright.

"What?" Asked the officer.

"Exactly." Answered Bright.

Graham looked at the man with a certain amount of fear but chased it away.

"Come with me, at the command center. We are organizing the attack." Invited the man.

The Team followed the man to the command center. It was a tent rapidly assembled. On the table in the center laid the blueprints of the mansion. The tent was also occupied by another member of the FBI, the normal branch, he was actually looking toward the mansion with a blank look.

"So, to sum up, it's difficult. We have them outnumbered by ten men. We are better trained, better equipped and all but they are magicians and have an impenetrable field of magical mines, one of the lads stepped on one of those, well there's nothing left of him. So that's why we called you." he said. "At least we know where the hostages are, they are just here."

Graham pointed to two triangles on a side of the mansion.

"Good thing they're either brain dead or confidant, they are in a room facing the exterior by all side. We have windows and other points of entry but they are barricaded and have likely a dozen guns pointed on it. Any suggestions?"

Everyone in the room began to analyze the blueprints. The mansion measured five thousand feet square, the equivalent of four hundred and sixty meters square spread across two floors. The zone around the house was flat without any obstacles. The mansion was mainly made of wood.

Suddenly Bright's face was illuminated by a wicked grin. Light noticed it.

"Bright please tell me it's tactically sound."

Bright cackled.

"I'm a mad scientist, Sophia, not a strategist."

"And what is your plan?" Asked Graham.

"We take one of your armored cars, here. Ram it in this wall, helped by some breaching explosives." He said pointing to the wall in front of the hostages. "Neutralize the terrorists and save the hostages, then your boys take care of the rest."

"Reckless. But that may work. What about the runes. And the magicians?"

"Mobius, it's your time buddy." Said Bright, pushing the young assistant.

The young assistant stumbled before pushing his glasses up.

"According to the analysis, those runes were created quickly using self-replicating spells." He began. "Rather easy to pull off but it has a flaw. Those runes are now connected."

"And?" Asked the chief.

"I'm getting to it. Meaning should Mr. Kamijou, present here," He vaguely pointed to Touma. "should be able to cancel all those runes at once. Leaving us with a clear field. The Thaumaturgists should be taken care of the same way."

He turned to Touma.

"Are you certain to be able to block any magical attack."

"Certain." Replied Touma. "At least those I can touch."

"Then you should be fine. Immaterial spells are rare and all very long to incantate."

"So, you really are going to ram a wall with a car, to go inside a room where the hostages and magicians are?"

"Yup." Nodded Bright.

"Well, I guess that could cause enough confusion for you to get them out." He sighed. "We're just establishing the details of the plan, brief everyone and then it's a go."

The next twenty minutes were spent detailing the operation. Later, outside, hidden from the terrorists' view. Graham, Light, and Bright briefed the SWAT and Team Gamma.

"Everyone. First please meet the Special Californian Protection, they're here to help us and know a lot more about those guys than us. So I'll let them talk first." Announced Graham, letting Light present the situation.

"Hello, I am Dr. Light. I am a specialist of the SCP. Those people are indeed magicians, Thaumaturgists, to be exact. We will take care of them. We will breach the room where the hostages are contained and will extract them. We will also take care of those runes, do not touch them. Lastly, we have identified the ringleaders of the group. Those with white mask possessing red vertical lines are to be avoided at all costs, they seem to be potent magicians. Should you spot one retreat and signal it to us. We will take care of them. That is all from our part."

Graham began to expose the plan to the SWAT team.

"First, as the runes are down, a ma-"

After the briefing everyone geared up for the operation. Night had settled, making an attack by night vision able troops perfect. At exactly twenty-three seventeen all agents were ready. A tense silence had fallen over the troops as they waited for the order to launch the operation. Finally, Graham's voice came at twenty-three twenty.

"Operation Broken Spell is a go."

At the word an armored car, a Lenco BearCat, able to transport up to ten passengers and two drivers began to speed towards the house. The terrorists watching smirked. The SWAT was just going to kill themselves, some called their comrades so they could assist to the fireworks. Just as the car was about to reach the center of the first explosive rune, which would have spelled its doom, a door opened and a hand shot out from it, grazing the runes. Lo and behold, all the runes, which were linked by thin traits disappeared as they never were here.

Inside the hostage's room, Houdini was drinking wines from his captive's cave. The mask was barely pulled up, letting see a tanned skin. Just as he was about to brag smugly to the two tied captives a scream caught his attention. One of the members of his cadre had run up to him.

"Fuck, fuck. The SWAT is coming!"

Houdini shrugged.

"And?"

"They broke the runes!"

"They WHAT!" Screamed Houdini.

Just as this scene unfolded an FBI agent with a rocket launcher fired at the house, the rocket exploded sending splinters of wood everywhere, wounding some terrorists. Luckily the hostage being the farthest away from the explosion and, ironically, shielded by their captors' body were unharmed.

Barely a moment passed as an armored car rammed into the wall, entering the large room and crushing under its wheels five unlucky terrorists. The terrorists were dazed, flabbergasted at the sight. They had witnessed something that despite their magic powers was, for them, the most impossible thing to be witnessed. They were shook from their daze as the doors opened and from it came three persons wielding anti-riot shields. Those were made of thick metal plates with a small Plexiglas filled opening to see through.

"Shoot dammit!" Shouted Houdini. He himself dove behind an overthrown table.

The terrorists began to shoot at the shields. Behind them were Luan, Henry, and Karen, who as the strongest of the group had taken the role of shield-bearer. Behind was Touma, ready to block any spell. And finally the last ranks were composed of the rest of Team Gamma, minus Aho who was currently sniping terrorists from a helicopter.

The entirety of magicians was present as hot lead rained on their less powerful counterparts, who began to fell under the overwhelming assault. They dove behind any cover and began to incantate. Barely two seconds had passed when pike of ice and bolt of fire were launched at the attackers. Covering fire rose from the attacker's side, forcing all behind cover and killing the foolish or too slow. Barely a single armed terrorist remained;

Quickly, before any could react, a figure rose from cover, and with supernatural speed blocked the five projectiles before any could hit the rescuers. The casters' eyes widened as their craft disappeared under their eyes. They stopped, pausing at the mind-boggling sight. Even more improbable than the SWAT car crashing in the room was the sight of their magic craft, one they had nurtured for years, spent endless hours working on, training on, being erased like nothing was too much for some.

Two ran, like the devil himself was chasing them, screaming. However, the rest was enraged. How dared this... boy, this boy barely in his late teens disrespects their work like that. Their voice became louder and once again their craft shot from their hands. This time even more potent. And once more their craft was erased by this boy... no, this monster. What could swat off venerable and ancient magic as if it was a simple bug on one's shoulder? They had no time to ponder as they were targeted by the precise shot of the attackers.

Their shoulder pierced by round, they fell screaming and clutching their wound. Touma ran toward where the leader had hidden. The leader finally got up and spread his hand. A bright glowing orange pentagram on his hand.

"Go to hell you monster!" He screamed in fear.

A beam of bright orange light shot from his hand. At first, it was not accurate and the beam deviated to the right, annihilating everything it touched. Finally, he redirected the beam toward the attackers but Touma jumped before the beam, his hand forward. His right hand canceled the beam as it came, negating it when it touched his hand. The beam continued pouring out of the man's hand until it stopped after a full minute. The man collapsed on his knees, his breath shallow.

"What are you?"

"I am Kamijou Touma." He said before punching the man, knocking him out cold.

A voice came from his left.

"Block this, fucker!" Screamed the last terrorist.

He had managed to escape the attention of everyone, focused as they were on the duel between Touma and Houdini. He was aiming at Touma nearly at blank point. Surprised Touma backpedaled just as the man's finger squeezed the trigger. Bang! Two shots went off.

One was from the terrorist's weapon, the second was distant. The terrorist's head exploded like a ripe fruit as a fifty caliber anti-material sniper round passed through his brains. The hand went to the side and the bullet grazed Touma's head. He cried in pain and fell on the floor as he stumbled back and tripped.

"Extract now!" Came the voice of Light and Bright in the comms. "Grab the leader."

The squad ran to Touma and the hostage and the masked man, grabbing them and bringing them back to the vehicle. In the vehicle, Mary attended to Touma, who was currently pissing blood on the siege.

"Don't worry it's just a graze, there's a lot of blood but it's normal." She said, cleaning the wound and putting a bandage on it.

"Yeah, no worry, I'm alright. Thanks for the save by the way."

"You're welcome." Came Aho's voice from the radio. "It was a bitch finding a good angle."

With the two hostages secured, the SWAT had begun cleaning up the rest of the terrorist with ease, their morale shattered by the loss of their leaders, their hostages and the disappearance of the runes, they easily shattered under the brutal assault of elite pissed troops combined with machine gun fire and sniper support.

Twenty minutes later all terrorists had surrendered or been killed. The captured terrorists were brought to the courtyard, under the supervision of the SWAT.

Inside a tent, Bright, Light, Graham and a member of the SWAT were field interrogating an awakened Houdini. His mask had been removed, showing a Hispanic face in his twenties. A punch to the gut made the tied man bent due to the pain. His hands were tied by a device covering the entirety of his hands.

"What is your name? That really is a simple question. Answering it would be much better for you." Growled Graham.

"F-" whispered Houdini.

"Hmm?" Said Graham, bringing his head closer to his.

"FUCK YOU!"

A headbutt crushed Graham's nose, making it bleed.

"Aaah. You asshole!" Shouted Graham, clutching his bleeding nose.

Bright stepped forth. "I am sure we can make him talk. If you could just exit the tent."

Graham hesitated for a bit before grumbling and gesturing the SWAT officer to follow him.

"So... Let's talk." Said Bright with a wolfish grin.

Houdini gulped. Ten minutes later, Bright called for Graham. As he came back, he saw the once defying terrorist quivering and twitching, beads of sweat covering his face. He spoke in a mechanical voice, without a hint of emotion. Only his eyes betrayed his fear.

"My name is Hernando Gonzalez, born in Mexico, twenty-seven of age, founder, and leader of Magic First, a cult with the goal to make magicians world's leader. I was given the info on Deputy Director Willis by an unknown source."

"How long has your group been active. Our last survey counted you as five."

"We recruited from ghettos and the like. We offered them power. We told them they would become kings with it."

"So you lied to get some cannon fodder." Observed Bright.

"Exactly."

"What did you intended to do with the list of UIU personnel?"

"I was told they were the best magician killers. I had to take them out."

The three interrogators snorted, even Graham.

"Yeah, right..." Snorted Bright.

"And..." Began Gonzalez before stopping.

"And?" Pressured Light.

"To list His enemies, to eliminate one by one who defies Him." Gonzalez began to speak in a more emotional voice. Devotion spilling from his eyes.

"Who is He?" Asked Light.

"You know very well. Dr. Sophia Alexandra Light, Level 4 senior researcher, based before at Site 41."

"The hell?" Shouted Light. Nothing could identify her and know that a run the mill terrorist knew her name, her clearance, and her ancient affiliation was frightening her. She grabbed him by the collar."How do you know this!?"

"He told me. He always watches. And you know full well of who I talk about. He in Crimson." His eyes took a red hue, shining stronger and stronger as he spoke.

Light and Bright backpedaled quickly. Gonzale's head exploded in a flurry of blood as the nine millimeters went through his head. The shot had come from Graham who had managed to keep his cool and draw his gun.

"I suppose that was the right thing to do?" He asked the two researchers, who nodded. "I suppose you're going to kill me because of what I saw and heard?"

Bright shook his head.

"No, do not worry. As we agreed, only a dose of amnestics will be administered. It will be administered by another team to all of the personnel present here."

Graham nodded. Light and Bright started to make their way out of the tent before the Chief called them.

"Before you go, what did you do to him?"

Bright stopped and slowly turned to look at the man.

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." Said Bright, very calmly, a grin on his face.

Graham said nothing and only paled.

"And as agreed you are allowed to keep three of the high ranked magicians." Interjected Light, breaking the tension. "Good day, Chief Graham."

"Yeah, good day." Said the Chief. He sat in a chair, took a cigarette, lighted it and brought it to his lips. "At least I won't remember this shitshow."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"And the operation?" Asked a well-dressed man in a suit. A pin of the flag of the United States pinned on it. The same flag was on his desk, on a small pole.

"It went without a hitch. We only lost one agent and three wounded. We have footage of this new anomaly. We also have an unforeseen development." Answered a young woman in a black suit.

"Hmm?"

"See for yourself, sir." She handed him a PDA.

The man took it and listened to the audio.

"Interesting. Who is this 'He'. Don't you have a video?"

"We do not know, but we are investigating with all our resources... Which are lacking. We did not anticipate the possibility of this tent being used as the interrogation room. We were restricted by our budget."

"Do not worry, more funding will be allocated. In the billions. You proved your worth."

"Thank you, sir."

The man paused before getting up and faced a window, showing a garden.

"Do you think he talked about God. He is referred to as such, after all."

"It is a possibility."

The man fell silent.

"If they are the enemies of God, then we have to eliminate them. Particularly this anomaly, this boy."

"Of course, sir."

"Understand, Director, that this of the utmost importance."

"Of course, Mr. President. I am well aware of that."

The man stopped, analyzing the woman before him.

"Good. I know you will do as much or even more than your father."

"Of course, sir." She answered with a smile.

"Perfect. You are dismissed, Director Jane Hoover. The UIU is lucky to have you."

"You honor me, President Colt." Answered Hoover as she got up. She shook hands with the President before exiting the room and bidding her farewell.

As Hoover left, Jeremiah Daniel Colt, President of the United States of America sat in his chair, at the oval office. He joined his fingers.

"Good, good. In god we trust."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Orion scoured through the halls of the Los Angeles' base. He was in a hurry, barely responding to any salutes or greeting. As he finally neared Monika's chamber, he saw her about to enter her room. He rushed to her side, calling her. She stopped and turned to see him, wide-eyed.

"Where were you? I did not saw you at the dinner, nor are the meeting." He said, in a worried tone.

"I... I..." She stuttered

"What were you doing? Are you alright? You worried me." He said, putting his hands on her shoulders.

He noticed a few odd things about her. Her jeans were torn and dirty. Her hair was a mess and her sneakers had sand and grass on them. His eyes widened as he saw blood on her clothes. Suddenly it dawned on him. He looked around. Good nobody had seen them. He opened the room and entered, pulling Monika with him.

"You went outside!" His powerful voice booming in the small room. "What were you thinking? Are you unconscious!? Have you no idea how many could track you there!? We are at war! War! That's not counting the horrors roaming the streets of this damned city!"

At first, the ginger teen was at loss of words before her face burned up with anger.

"I am not a child! I can take care of myself! And no nobody followed me!"

Orion wasn't having it.

"I don't care! If you go out one more time. There will be consequences. You are to stay in your room when not needed or called anywhere else."

Monika took a step back.

"Are you... grounding me?"

"Yes, young lady. You are grounded." He said before getting out of the room, slamming the door.

Monika's protest fell on deaf ears. She heard Orion's footstep get farther and farther away. She sat on her bed and remembered the recent event of this day.

_She woke up from her peaceful slumber as someone gently nudged her. She jumped, all of her training and paranoia commanding her body. She took a combat stance_ _and_ _searched for an absent knife._

" _Whoa there, young miss. Calm down."_

_The man talking was a portly night guardian. His peaked cap did not hide his amused face at her reaction. She calmed down as she realized the man was no threat._

_"Had to wake you up, park's closing. Had to chase a few pickpockets too. Sleeping beauties like you are perfect targets for'em."_

_Her eyes widened._

" _What hour is it?"_

" _A half past seven, I let you sleep the longest I could. You looked like you needed it."_

_"Oh shit! Thank you! I have to go!" She shouted as she ran to the secret entrance._

" _You're welcome." Answered the guardian, chuckling. "Ah, the youth..." he trailed off as he watched her disappear before resuming his task._

_She ran through streets and boulevards, dodging the people that still were out at this hour. The night had shrouded the city in a veil of black. Only for the humans to illuminate it once more with artificial light._

_She began to lose herself in the maze of streets. She stopped at a deserted crossroads to think. Just as she began to delve into the city's mental plan she had built, a group of people came to the same group._

" _Check that ass." Said one of them, attracting the attention of the group._

" _I'd tap that." Seconded another one._

_One whistled to grab the attention of the girl. She did not budge as she was focused on_ _plotting_ _her return to base._

" _Hey, girl! What's up?" Hollered a fourth._

_As Monika did not answer or budge, they frowned. A fifth came to her patting her on the shoulder. She turned, surprised._

" _Uuuh, yeah?"_

_She was faced by a group of six boys, ranging from seventeen to nineteen years old. They were a rather mixed bunch with whites, blacks, a Latino and an Asian. They were rather well built and wore hoodies and sweatpants_ _One of them whistled as she turned, facing them._

_The one talking to her was white with a goatee, shades obscured his eyes. Why one would wear shades during the night was a question Monika asked herself_ _a_ _nd could not answer._

" _Hey did the fall hurt?" He asked_

_"What?"_

_What fall? She may have some traces of grass and grains of sand but why did he think she had fallen?_

" _Cuz you look like you fell from heaven." The boy answered with a cheesy line._

_Monika could not be more confused. Why would she fall from heaven? She wasn't dead and she doubted the existence of an afterlife heaven. Her blank look did not deter the band, as they started to make her react._

_"Wanna hang out with us? We know a lot of good places to go." Proposed the Asian._

_Other propositions were placed by the other member of the band. Monika was actually getting annoyed. Could they not tell, by her looks that she was not interested_ _She sighed and began to walk away. She stopped as three of them blocked her exit. She frowned._

_"Cmon girl, we can show you a real good time." Said one of the blacks, he was the leader and looked like the leader, since the others stopped talking when he did. "Yeah real good time." He said pointing at its crotch._

_She finally understood. They were hitting on her! She threw a disgusted look at the leader._

" _Not interested." She said, pushing away the leader to get past him._

" _Don't be like that." He said with a grin."I know you want it."_

_And he made a fatal mistake. His hand took some recoil. He_ _adjusted_ _the angle. Brought down his hand. And with a resounding sound smacked his hands on a peculiar place. Which happened to be Monika's bottom._

" _Yeah dat booty's good." He said with a toothed grin._

_That was it. Monika's face flared up in anger. Her arm took some recoil. She adjusted the angle. Brought back her elbow. And with a nasty sound, struck her elbow in a peculiar place. Which happened to be the guy's crotch._

" _AAAAAAAAH!" He screamed in a high-pitch voice as he backpedaled and fell on the ground on his knees._

_All froze for a moment and Monika took advantage of that, she sprang into action. Delivering a powerful kick to one's stomach, sending him on the ground. The other began to react. Too late, Monika was in their midst. A powerful open palm hit sent one sprawling on the ground. Another took an uppercut. The Arab took out a knife,_ _in desperation and began slashing at her. She easily blocked his forearm, twisted it and took the knife before spartan kicking him to the ground. However, another gang's member tried_ _to cut her arm_ _with another knife, only to fail as she dodged. She turned back and faced him, cold anger burning in her eyes. The Latino began to stutter, realizing his mistake, it was either killing her or be beaten to the ground. A roundhouse kick knocked him back, he hit his head against a light pole and fell to the ground._

_All except the Latino had gotten back up, not for long though as an overhead kick, on a still kneeling offender knocked him out cold. Two others attacked together with knives. They were disorganized and sliced the air in overly large movements. She easily knocked the knife from one of them and head-butted him. The other proved more difficult as he used the distraction to cut her shins, she used her agility to cartwheel back and knock the knife from the man's grip and kick him in the chin._

_The Asian one, put himself, in what he believed to be a martial art stance. Everything was wrong, his feet were too close, he was too high and he held his hand too much apart, she mused. She rushed at him, taking momentum as he shouted a warning._

" _I'm a black belt in ka-" He shut up as she literally jumped over him, with a_ _backflip._

_That kind of shit was in the movies, he thought. The girl was a freaking Jedi! His musings were cut short as just as she landed she swiped his legs and brought her foot down on his face as he hit the ground. He did not get up, unconscious or too afraid to._

_She turned toward the last remaining member, the gang leader who was currently aiming at her with a handgun in a horizontal pose._

" _Take that you fucking bitch!" He screamed, more in panic than anger._

_His finger squeezed the trigger and the bullet went flying only to meet a wall. Monika had managed to dodge the bullet, jumping to the side. She wasted no time and stroke the dumbfounded thug with an ax-kick to the head. Blood and teeth went flying as the thug went flying, before landing on the hard ground._

_She dusted herself as she looked around, the thugs were all on the ground, none getting back up. She indeed had fun with the group. She had used some of those moves she saw in the movie, of course in an actual fight she would not really use them. She ran away as a police siren could be heard. She ran until the sound of_ _the_ _police_ _was far away. She looked and realized she was near the entrance of the base; She took different turns and finally found the alley where she came from. But as she entered the alley, she was greeted by a more peculiar sight._

_A man was currently pressing a woman against a wall, they were kissing, and their hands roamed each other's body. Her face flared up, this time in embarrassment, even the tip of_ _her_ _ears were beet red. She could not help but let escape a meek 'meep' from her mouth. The two people stopped what they were doing and looked at her. The woman groaned._

" _Let's get to your place, honey"_ _Proposed the woman._

" _Yeah. Let's go."_

_As they left, Monika could not help but follow the woman with her eyes with a certain amount of jealousy. It was not about her looks, it was about her freedom. She could not help but envy the woman. She could go out, meet people, fall in love, kiss and do all that came after. She, however, Monika Weiss, for all her talents in_ _espionage,_ _combat and anomalous knowledge, could not pretend to such things. And it saddened her immensely. Thoughts about a certain black-haired anomaly came to her mind, as she dropped down the ladder and walked through the base's corridors. Her thoughts were broken as Orion came down on her like an angry storm._

And now here she was, grounded like a child. She was a Special Agent, dammit, who did Orion think he was? Oh, right her superior officer. She turned her sight toward a picture on her small desk. It represented a younger version of her, when she was twelve, with Orion to her side. She was smiling brightly, her blue eyes were bubbling with happiness. Orion's were out of sight but the hand on her shoulder gave off a feeling of pride. This photo was taken to commemorate her acceptance into the circle of the Insurgency's Special Agents. The background was blank, as it was taken on the fly in an underground base.

But a weird train of thoughts began to make its appearance. Underground base, secret, Foundation, SCPs, Touma. She couldn't help including the raven-haired boy in her thoughts. Unlike the thugs she had beaten up, he was actually very gentlemanly and nice. His charming personality, had without her knowledge 'infected' her, the Kamijou disease was now running rampant. And as her eyes closed, her last thoughts were still centered on the kind anomaly. She did not know it yet but for her and other unfortunate innocent women, it was too late.


	10. Of Dimensions and Suits

Under a bridge, in Chicago, a woman in a business suit waited. Her black suit was perfectly tailored for her and expensive jewelry could be seen on her person. Behind her were two tall, muscled man in suits with black glasses. She was looking at her watch with gritted teeth.

"He is not early by five minutes." She grumbled. "And I have to stay here in this stinking place, urrrgh."

She paced around and exactly five minutes, the two men behind as silent as a stone, she checked her watch once more.

"It's exactly the time we had agreed upon, where is he?"

"Right here." Said a voice behind her.

She turned to face the voice, nearly jumping out of her skin. She was faced by the sight of a young man, she could not really tell his age. He seemed shaved and seemed to wear jeans and a leather jacket. He held in his hand a beige tweed cap. The woman composed herself in a ladylike manner.

"Greeting, may I ask you from where you come from? I did not see you coming." She asked.

"I just came from down there." He pointed at the road behind him.

She threw a look at her goons, who shrugged.

"How many do you think it is worth?"

"Pardon?"

"Your cap, it is obviously this item that hid you from mine and my associates' view. How many do you think it is worth?"

"Nothing is worth this." He said, boring his eyes into hers.

She sighed, she knew it was useless to insist.

"Very well. Should we proceed to the exchange?" She asked.

The man did not answer but handed her an envelope, which she took.

"You can check if you want."

"There is no need for this, I am sure there is no need for that. Our sponsors are both trustful partners, are they not?" She asked innocently.

"Of course." Said the man with gritted teeth.

She giggled. She then crooked her finger at one of the goons, who approached and handed the man a suitcase. The buyer opened it and checked the inside, his face briefly illuminated by a purple glow. He closed the case, nodded his head.

"Thank you, for choosing Marshall, Carter & Dark. Number one seller and buyer of anomalous items in this dimension and many others. It was a pleasure to do business with you." Said the woman.

He nodded and departed, the woman blinked, she knew he was still in front of her but her brain told her he was not. And soon, she ignored the retreating man completely, forgetting he was even here.

"How much was in the envelope?" She asked.

"Five million, madame. Just as we agreed." He said presenting a scanner.

"Good, let's get out of here, I have real contracts to sign." She said, sighing, a Rolls Royce coming to greet her.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

G.L was walking in the streets of Chicago, the Windy City did bear its name as he sometimes struggled to advance under the heavy wind. All ignored him as he slithered through the streets of the metropolis. Finally, he arrived at a rundown building, an old woman with blond dyed hair was smoking on the stairs. He removed his cap.

"Hi, Lilian." He greeted.

"Hi, hon, how you doing?" Said the woman getting up and hugging him, not fazed by his sudden appearance.

He smiled and hugged back.

"Great. Jordan's here?"

"Yeah, yeah he's upstairs with Kendrick. Oh and don't mind the missing parts of the wall."

"Yeah... right."

He climbed the stairs and opened the door, who nearly fell off its hinges as he pushed it. He then climbed up the first flight of stairs, where, indeed, parts of the wall were missing, letting the sunlight filter through. As he arrived at the first landing he knocked at the door. Loud music could be heard from across the door, he knocked a second time after a minute. Two minutes and three attempts later and he pushed the door open.

He entered the apartment, which was well kept compared to the rest of the building with light orange walls and well-lit rooms. The apartment was, however, a mess with fast food boxes, dirty clothes, and other miscellaneous items spread on the floor or random furniture.

On the couch of the living room were two men in their early twenties. One was black with dreadlocks while the other was white with black hair pulled back in a man bun. They were currently smoking from a bong, the smoke climbed up the ceiling and obscured the room. One of them, nearly jumped out of his skin as he saw G.L.

"Hey, G.L, wassup bro?" Said the other, calmly. "Wanna take a joint?" He said, pointing at a small pyramid of the mentioned drugs.

G.L nodded and the man threw him the joint, which he lighted and took a small drag of. As the smoke rose in the air, G.L spoke.

"I need your help, dudes."

"With what brother?" Asked the one with dreadlocks.

"With the Chicago Specter, Kendrick."

The two froze.

"The Specter, brother, you know with who you're messing with?" Asked the one with an bun, Jordan.

"Yeah, I need something from them. And they won't give it or sell it to me."

"You wanna rob'em? Nah, I'm outta this brother. Ain't no one who messes with the Specter on their turf."

"C'mon, Even with the Hand's help?"

The two stopped once more.

"What. L.S sent you some shit?" Asked Kendrick.

"Yeah, that." He showed the cap. "This." He showed what was inside the case, the two whistled "And we will have some support from MC&D. Real shit, mercenaries and all."

"The Merchants?"

"Yes, our interests align, the Specter has betrayed them. Loss in the dozens of billions, or something like this. A simple lake drought in their ocean of wealth but they want to send a message. I mean, if you guys come then we'll rob'em blind. Zero fuck up chances."

The two men still hesitated.

"If not for me or you. At least for your kind and the Hand."

Kendrick and Jordan took a deep drag from the bong.

"Kay." Simply replied Jordan.

G.L nodded, fist-bumped them and exited the building. The sun was shining. Good.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

The return to Site-19 was done in silence. The tired team was not really talking, Mary had patched up Touma's head wound. The bullet had done nothing serious but the loss of blood had still been serious due to the great number of blood flowing through Touma's head.

When they arrived at the Site, Team Gamma went for their bunks while Wanda accompanied Touma to his chamber. She stepped inside with him. He turned, surprised to see her enter it.

"Wh-"

"Are you okay?" She said caressing the side of his head with her hand.

"Yeah... yeah. Don't worry."

"I nearly had a heart attack when that terrorist shot you."

"Don't worry Aho saved me." He laughed, scratching the back of his head.

"But not me... I'm sorry I should have protected you better." She said, casting her eyes downward. "I fail at protecting those I should."

"No you did not, nothing that happened was your fault."

Wanda narrowed her eyes.

"I slipped, I didn't see him coming. I should have. Should have killed him before. You were lucky that Aho shot him."

"Nobody is perfect, if you weren't here, who knows how many would have slipped from the others' sight."

She sighed.

"Maybe. Doesn't mean I like it."

"It's okay, we're only human after all." He said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. She smiled.

"I suppose you are right. Well, I have to go. You should rest."

"Yeah, later."

He waved his hand as she retreated, she returned the gesture and once more he was alone in his stark white cell.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"You see, I told you this would work just fine." Proclaimed The Administrator, twirling his cane with a jovial smile, before resting his two hands on it.

He was in a conference in the O5's meeting room. 1, 2, 4, 9, 12 and 13 were the only one physically present, the others were actually holograms. However the resemblances between a hologram and a flesh and bones human were uncanny.

"I am still not convinced. It can still go wrong, we were so sure with 076, but it ended with a slaughter." Said 1.

2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 11, 12 and 13 nodded in agreement. Practically all the Council except for 4, 8 and 9 were in agreement with 1.

"This deployment was reckless, just because it succeeded does not mean Alpha-9, in particular Team 'Imagine Breakers', is a reliable Mobile Task Force."

"Come on, 1, they did it. They rescued two high ranking figures of the USA. I mean the States are even more in our debt now. We got more strings to pull, the UIU is becoming less and less loyal to the President, and now looks to us, us and no one else." The Administrator exclaimed, pointing his cane at random points.

6's hologram slammed his hands on the table, with no effect and got up.

"This operation was made without our consent or knowledge. We had agreed we would advise first to deploy Alpha-9."

11 also intervened.

"Their training is not even finished and you send them in a terrorist situation? Zero even got wounded. And you." He turned to face 9 "You agreed to this?! I know you Ruskies love your suicide wave tactics but..."

9 fiercely glared at him and cut him off.

"Listen here _žestjanka,_ you really think I didn't try to stop this. I didn't agree to that but had no choice."

"And General Bowe?" Asked the cat O5. "He agreed to this folly?"

"Bowe was more than excited to send Team Gamma in this mission, who met a resounding success." Revealed the Administrator.

"Of course." Sighed 6.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, who is with the immediate deployment of MTF Alpha-9 'Last Hope' on multiple missions."

Two hands rose immediately, belonging to 4 and 9. After a moment 8's hand rose to. The Administrator waited for the other members of the Council to put their hands up but none did.

"Seriously? Seriously?" He said, searching for other allies. "But how am I going to justify their reputation? With all those rumors about them."

"What!?" Shouted 1. "What reputation and rumors?

The Administrator chuckled uncomfortably, like a kid who was caught, hand in the cookie jar.

"Bowe and I may have told some of the incredible feats MTF Alpha-9 will accomplish to some personnel. And I think it got twisted in feats Alpha-9 _had accomplished."_

" _Bordel_." Sighed 5. "And to say I spent so much time tracking the origin of leaks about this 'awesome MTF that is one of the Foundation's most valuable assets but shush cause it's top secret'."

"Well, they will be one of the most valuable assets."

The entirety of the Council glared at him. Suddenly just as The Administrator was about to call the end of the session something on the wall appeared. ' _Let us out!'_ was written in big bold red letters, it was no ink since the letters were dripping. A strong odor of blood and rot assaulted his nose. The Administrator backpedaled and nearly lost his footing. Pure fear clutching his stomach. A guard sprang in action, catching The Administrator, but he just waved him off, the feeling and the writing had disappeared.

"Sir, are you alright?" Asked 1, genuine concern shining in his eyes.

"This body is old, my friend. Just a little head-spin, nothing else."

1 nodded, his eyes still filled with concern. The O5s looked at each other, unsure.

"Rest assured, my friends, this old body of mine is still solid as a rock. And on this note, I officially close this session. Good day and night to you." Said The Administrator.

All O5s left, bidding their farewells. The Administrator went back to his study. He sat at his wooden oak desk and took a file. It was detailed in great lengths a plan codenamed 'Acceptance'.

"So let's see, spread rumors for a rise of popularity toward Alpha-9, check, send a Team on a mission without the Council's agreement, check, the Team succeeds, check, gloat over it, check, convince the Council to give the full go for Alpha-9, nope." Muttered The Administrator

He laid back in his chair, put his feet on the desk, stomping many papers and folders, and took a pipe, lighted it and began to smoke it.

"Ah, still have to work on that. What could I do, what could I do?" He pondered.

His gaze drifted to a folder on his desk. CONFIDENTIAL was printed thrice in red. The number 008 was on the top corner. The Administrator's face was split in two by a grin. Ideas kept piling up.

"Dear me, you are a genius!" He cackled.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Iris Thompson aka SCP-105 was currently shooting at the shooting range, she took aim at the target and with precision placed one shot in the head, one in the heart, one in the liver and emptied the clip on different parts of the body.

"Not bad." Said another female next to Iris.

She was a tall white woman in her late thirties. Her dark brown hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore shades that fell low enough to allow her black eyes to be seen. Her eyes spoke of mischief. She wore a black suit with a tie and black skinny pants. Her figure could be considered by many to be, as she herself put it 'sexy as hell'.

"Give me that." She asked Iris, who handed her the gun.

She took it, loaded it, and aimed it at a new target. In barely three seconds all the vitals of the target had been shot, another target had also been aimed at, and if they had been alive, they would have died without understanding how. The woman approached the barrel of the gun near her lips and blew on it.

"Show off." Muttered Iris.

The woman's only response was a snarky smile.

" _Agent Andrea S. Adams is requested at Dr. Clef's office."_ Came a voice from a nearby inter-phone.

Adrea rolled her eyes.

"I guess we'll have to cut this short, later." She said to Iris.

"Yeah, later."

Adrea departed for Clef's office. Passing through the different tunnels of the Site she finally arrived at her destination. After passing two identity checks she finally entered the doctor's office. She knocked on the door and opened it.

Inside was a man, maybe a few years older than her. He was ginger with mismatched eyes, one blue and the other green. A wide-brimmed hat rested on his head, a ukelele was propped against the chair he was in and he sported a beer belly. Said belly was covered by a white shirt with an open lab coat upon it, a short tie was around the man's neck. He could be described by many as ugly, with dropping cheeks, many freckles, and a fat nose.

"Ah, Adams, finally."

The two both had a small grin on their face, their eyes both spoke of mischief.

"Missed me, Clef?" She asked.

"Who would?" He asked, badly acting as bewildered by such a question.

Adams rolled her eyes.

"Don't tell me you called me just to shake you out of your loneliness."

"If I did I would have chosen a more pleasant company."

"Oh, because, I'm not?"

Asked Adams, putting one of her long legs on the Clef's desk. Clef could not help but drop his eyes to look at Adams's leg with a certain interest. Her grin got wider. The man with odd eyes coughed and shook out of his staring. He threw a dark glare at Adams before speaking.

"We're soon going to get on the field." Declared Clef.

"Perfect, maybe you'll finally die." Said Adams venomously.

"I'm too badass for that, sweet cheeks."

"Call me that one more time and the last solid thing you will for the rest of your life will be your teeth."

"Alright, alright. But seriously. Are you ready? Do you feel you can use it."

Adams looked away, a determined look settling.

"Yes."

"Let's put that to the test." He said, getting up. He gestured to Adams to follow him.

They exited the office and made it to another wing of the Site. On their way, they ignored the awed, scared and strange look given by the different people of the Site. They walked calmly, head held high. They finally arrived after minutes of walking to a door guarded by two sentries, they checked their DNA prints, keycards and let them enter the password, their fingers ready to pull the trigger of their rifles. As all checks were positive, the two men relaxed and let them pass, without a word.

Adams and Clef entered a small locker room, Clef took a turn right and entered another room while Adams opened a locker, after entering a password and took out a suit. She stripped, leaving only her lower undergarments and slipped in the suit. It was black with red highlights around the hips, the side of the legs and the neck. The suit was tight fitting and at she found it to leave no room for imagination. She took a helmet and slipped it under her arms before exiting the locker room. The helmet was also black and had a futuristic look to it, it was long, with a full-face () visor and covered her entire head, the SCP logo was etched on both sides.

She took a turn left and entered a large compound. There was a shooting range, a giant climbing wall, a crash test zone, and different contraptions.

" _Ready to roll kitty cat?"_ Asked Clef, his voice transmitted by wireless earphones.

"Ready to kick ass." She answered. "Also yours if you continue like that."

In an observation bay above Clef nodded, a smile forming on his face.

" _Preparation for phase one."_

Adams slipped the helmet, sealing herself from the world. A bright explosion of color nearly blinded her, she closed her eyes as she saw every color specter in existence. Quickly she willed the suit to filter her view to normal and she opened her eyes. Her sight had become once more normal, before her Head-Up Display began to show her different information, such as her vitals and a minimap of her environment. Her suit activated and she felt her body change, her strength develops, her sight became more accurate and her reflex sharpen.

"Preparation over. Initiating phase one." She announced.

" _Understood."_

Adams sprang into action and began to run toward the first zone, she skidded to a halt as several devices activated. Each sprang from the ground and showed different pictures, with strange colorful patterns. Those were cognitohazard images, also known as memetic hazards. Those images were able to trigger different reactions from humans and other living creatures. Those were Berryman-Langford hazards, known for their immediate lethality. Where one would have closed his eyes in the hope of surviving, Adams widened her eyes and observed intently each image. After a few moments, the voice of Clef could be heard.

" _Phase one, success. Good job, you didn't even flinch. Initiate phase two."_ Complimented Clef.

She nodded and ran at full speed, her HUD indicated her the speed. Sixty miles per hour, or one hundred kilometers, she arrived at the giant climbing wall which measured a good ten meters and climbed it in a few seconds, she already jumped ten meters high and used the plugs to climb at inhuman speed. She reached the top and jumped. She landed with a deafening boom in the center of the landing target.

" _You could lose a few pounds Adams, you seem heavy."_ Snickered Clef.

"Say the man with a beer belly." Countered Adams.

" _Yeah, yeah, you women are the one watching your weight."_

"Pig."

" _Phase three, fatty. Don't break the triggers."_

"Initiating, asshole."

She broke once more into a full sprint and took a rifle from a table. It was an American standard M14. She took it and faced the shooting range. Targets popped up quickly, staying no more than three seconds but she managed to put in each target at least ten bullets. When her clip ran dry she reloaded with dexterity in a fraction of second. This continued until she ran out of clips, with her left hand she deftly took a handgun. It was silvery and blocky. She once again fire without taking aim, she let her instincts, her body guide her. For an observant, it would seem the targets were just too quick to disappear. But for her it was just fine, the targets were fast to appear and disappear, but she was much, much faster. Soon a green light buzzed and the voice of Clef invaded her ear once again.

" _Perfect score. Not bad, but I would've done better."_ He said haughtily.

"Yeah, yeah." She rolled her eyes. "Initiate phase four."

" _Initiating."_

She walked to another shooting range, a small pedestal sprang from the ground. On it was a large, blocky rifle, it was futuristic looking with a matte black color and a smooth design. The cannon was large and she reminisced what Clef told her about the weapon.

_"Basically it's a Warhammer 40K Bolter rifle." Said Clef, presenting with a sarcastic bow the rifle._

" _A what?" Deadpanned Adams. "I'm not a nerd."_

_"It's a big fucking rifle. It fires .65 caliber explosive round, 16.50 millimeter, if you prefer, at nine hundred and fifty bullets a minute. It's pretty much a miniature automatic grenade launcher. Well, the recoil is a bitch but the suit should handle that."_

" _Now you speak my language." Said Adams with a grin. "So that's what I'll use against the White Suits?"_

" _Yes. But remember-"_

" _I only have fifty percent of chance to win against one and a STRIKE Teams use ten suits. I know."_

_"Normally you should be fine since the GOC shouldn't be that much of a problem. But still... With 105 and 073, they might try something."_

Opening her eyes she took the rifle, aimed and fired at the popping targets. Those ones were made of thick plates of steel. However, before the massive firepower of the Mark 19 carbine, they were torn into pieces. The explosive shells tore through the plates with ease, and soon, thirty metal plates were reduced to smoking husks. Adams put the rifle back on the table and asked to initiate the final phase of the test:

"Initiate phase five."

" _You sure?"_ He said it, softer than his previous statements.

"I can handle it. Don't worry." She said half a smile on her face.

" _I'm just worried about the suit."_

"Of course you are."

She walked to another part of the testing area. In the observation bay, Clef dialed on a keyboard and pushed the Enter key. A minigun jutted from the ground and turned to face Adams, who steeled and lowered herself. The minigun began to spit its deadly payload and quickly the area was filled by the sound of gunfire. The fifty calibers Browning tore through the air and landed on Adams. The suit held fast and none of the bullets penetrated it. However, the pain of the impact was still here, despite no damage being inflicted. She gritted her teeth and held her ground, not budging as the bullets ricocheted on her. Satisfied Clef dialed another number and pressed Enter. A Barret .50 Anti Material Sniper Rifle was now pointed at Adams and fired at her leg. Pain rippled through her and she had to close her eyes, a small cry of pain escaping her lips. But she held her ground. A second Anti Material bullet hit her in the chest, she coughed from the impact, luckily no blood came out. The third and final shot was to the head. Her world exploded in white as searing pain coursed through her body, making her scream. She backpedaled but soon recovered, her breathing heavy. She exhaled loudly.

"Phase f-"

She could not finish her phrase as a piano fell on her. She was crushed under the massive wooden furniture, a loud crack was heard through the area. For a few seconds, nothing happened.

" _You alright?"_ Asked Clef. _"Do you need a strong man to help you?"_ No answer. _"Or are you really a simple paper pushing desk jockey eye candy?"_ He taunted.

His answer came in the form of a thrown piano. The furniture bounced harmlessly on the glass of the bay and fell back, this time destroyed for good. A panting Adams could be seen in the test area.

"Fuck you, you sexist piece of trash."

" _Me? Sexist? Just with you."_ He chuckled.

"I will get my payback. How many pianos do you even have? This is the second time you dropped one on me."

" _Details, details."_ Said Clef, dodging the question. " _Let's get back to my office."_

Adams acknowledged the order and left the area going back to the locker room. She entered it at the same time as Clef. She removed her helmet and made eye contact with Clef, or rather tried to as she noticed his eyes dropping lower than her face.

"Face is up here. Pervert. Didn't get laid enough? Not surprising, you probably never did."

Clef looked at her face a Cheshire grin on his face.

"You know, you look like you're making some moves on me with that suit." He said, approaching her.

"Oh, am I?" She answered, strutting toward him.

She pulled on his tie and they both got closed to each other. Their faces were close, their lips barely a breath apart. They stayed like that for a few moments, lingering, and even drawing closer to each other. Until Adams pushed him back and shoved him out of the room.

"Now, get out and let me dress!"

As Clef exited the locker room, he tipped his wide hat and declared with a booming voice.

"Ladies, they can't resist me."

"They can't resist filing a sexual harassment file!" Shouted Adams, giving him the finger, as she closed the door.

She would never admit it, but she was actually enjoying those banters of their. It was not really witty, it was crude, brute, meant to hurt. And they both loved it.

After a few moments, she came out with her normal wear. They walked back to Clef's office without a word. They finally arrived at their destination and settled, Clef sat in the chair and Adams on the desk.

"Adams." He said, attracting her attention.

"Hmm?"

"I hope you are ready to endure the consequences of your choices. This is your last chance to back down."

Adams said nothing as she got up and walked in a circle, before finally turning to face Clef. A determined look on her face.

"Of course. I have accepted a long time ago what might happen." A grin split her face. "If I did not I would have resigned the day I met you."

Clef chuckled as he got up himself and turned to face a small table. A handgun was on it. He took it with reverence and spoke.

"This weapon was the first I ever used. With this one I fulfilled my first contract. It was with this weapon that my career in the Coalition started. You have to understand, who you are going against is as powerful as the Foundation. They won't hesitate."

"I'm not a rookie. I already fought them." Said Adam, rolling her eyes.

"You will also have to kill those who may go rogue. Even friends."

"I know..."

"Do you?" Asked Clef, rhetorically.

"Stop babysitting me! When I signed I knew what I would do! I do not need you to hold my hand, dammit!" Her temper flared at the treatment.

Clef sighed.

"Cool. But..."

"But?" Said Adams, a small part of her dreading what Clef would say.

"We still need to get a name for Lambda-2." Said Clef. "I mean 'No Name Entered' can't cut it."

Adams facepalmed.

"Personally." He said, musing. "I preferred the first proposition. 'Dr. Clef's Bisexual All Female Stripper Assassin Squad' was pretty good."

Her eye twitched and anger began to control her.

"Honestly 'Fat Ugly Misogynist Dinosaur' resume the leadership perfectly." Said Adams. "I prefer that one."

"Okay. What about 'The Kitty Cat Suit Assassins'?"

"How about 'A Fist In Clef's Face'?"

They traded stupid and insulting names for minutes before finally settling down. The anger dying down afterward.

"Wait, wait." Said Clef. "Let's not change the archives. Or we'll have Jones on our asses again. And we don't want that." he said the last part shivering.

"Yeah..." She said, scared.

They stayed silent for a few moments, pondering on different names before finally reaching a mutual agreement.

"Let's keep it like that." They said at the same time.

They nodded in sync. Adams glanced at the clock.

"Well, it's awfully late. I better go."

"Yeah." Was Clef's only answer as he turned his back to her.

She exited the room, her small ponytail fluttering behind her; As she was out, Clef opened a small compartment. It was nearly invisible, a secret compartment. As he pulled it, he opened the sacred safe. His face was illuminated by light, but soon this same, ugly, face was further marred by a look of pure rage.

"ADAAAAAAAMS! YOU BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH!" He roared, scaring the few personnel outside his office, who heard the hate-filled scream.

The sacred safe was empty, with the exception of a small note.

_'Beers confiscated as a punishment for dropping a fucking piano on me, twice._

_Hate_

_Adams._

_:p'_

As she walked through the corridors of Site-19, Adams threw her head back, gulping the beer. She swaggered to her room and fell on her bed, giggling as she put the six-pack in her fridge. At this moment, she could not help but looks forward to her next insult fest with Clef.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

At the same time in the same facility, Touma was dragged to the shooting range by Ansa Aho.

"Why are we going there? I don't need firearm training." Protested Touma.

"Yes, you do. On the field, fists fights are not actually common. It is not a recommended tactic to charge unarmed against an armed opponent."

"But we are not going against soldiers."

She looked at him, her eyes holding a certain amount of irritation.

"But soldiers may go against us. Now grab that gun and start shooting. I want to see how you are doing." He did not answer.

She handed him a handgun. He took it and faced one of the targets, it was fairly close, barely five meters between him and the humanly sized cardboard props. He carefully took aim, adjusted the sights and shoot. He closed his eyes as the shot went off, he opened his eyes only to see the prop untouched. Ansa groaned.

"Watch me." She ordered him.

She took the handgun from his hand, took aim at the cardboard head and squeezed the trigger. The head was pierced perfectly in the middle of the cranium.

"What did you see?" She asked turning to face him.

"Uuuuh. You shot it in the head?" He ventured, shrugging with an uneasy smile.

Ansa shook her head to the side.

"No. Take two, watch _me._ Not the target."

He nodded as she once more aimed at the target and shot it, this time, right in the heart.

"Do you see the difference between you and me?"

Touma stayed awkwardly silent for a few moments before Ansa, crooked her finger to make him come closer.

"Okay, take the gun, just get in position, don't shoot."

He did as he was told and took aim, once more.

"Your position is wrong." She told him. "There. Get your legs like that." She showed him the position which he copied.

"Good, now, crouch a bit, yes just like that... Now take aim." He took aim. "No, no. Inhale, good, keep it in and now shoot."

The shot went off and the bullet burrowed itself in the stomach area.

"Well, that's a good start. Let's keep going." She instructed.

Ansa kept training Touma for an hour, correcting his position, his breathing pattern and other details. While he proved to be a mediocre shot at more than five meters, his forte was his ability to predict a moving target's movement.

"Good, that's important in fights, enemies rarely stand still. If you can predict their movements, you can shoot them." She looked at her watch. "Let's have a small break."

She sat in one of the chairs next to the range and invited Touma to do the same. They stayed silent for a few moments.

"I forgot to thank you for saving me, in the house."

She looked at him with a blank face.

"No worries, just doing my job."

"But still thank you."

She nodded silently, and after a bit, she took something covered in a white tissue. She unfolded it revealing a wooden sniper rifle. It was nearly as long as her, measuring one meter and 40 centimeters, Ansa herself was barely twenty or twenty-five centimeters taller than the rifle. The stock and much of the rifle was made of wood. The clip was short which contrasted with the rifle's bulkiness. At the end of the barrel rested a recoil compensator. She began cleaning the outer parts of the rifle with a rag, completely absorbed in her task.

Touma intrigued spoke.

"That's what you shoot with?" he asked, he wanted to make a bit of small talk.

Touma could swear he saw a small spark brighten Ansa's eyes for a moment.

"Yes, this is a custom hunting rifle. He belonged to my grandfather. He shoots .50 cal Anti-Material rounds." She told him, showing him the bullet.

He eyed the bullet with apprehension. The bullet was long and large, he doubted someone could survive that.

"That's... something."

She laughed, breaking her cool demeanor, a flame had lit up in her eyes.

"You bet this is 'something'. This baby can shoot up to two kilometers away with a speed of nine hundred meters per second. Nearly always lethal. 0.7 MOA of precision, 0.2 being the most precise. He's one of the best sniper rifles ever. Only drawbacks are the recoil which kicks like a horse, you can dislocate your shoulder if you don't get in a good position, the weight and the small clip. Here take him." She spoke fast and handed him the rifle with a smile.

He took the rifle and nearly drop it from the unexpected weight. Ansa chuckled quietly.

"He weights seventeen kilograms." She explained. "Without the bullets."

"He?" Asked Touma, intrigued, it did not seem like an error but a deliberate use since she had repeated it multiple times.

"Yeah. This rifle's been through my family for nearly a hundred years. He helped us during the harsh winters and allowed us to defend ourselves. He is an old codger but as the years passed, he became a tradition to upgrade him. We named him ' _Suojelija',_ it means Protector. Lapland's not a nice and cozy place to live in."

"Lapland?" Touma asked, curious

"It's a region of Finland, the northernmost part of it, it's in the middle of nowhere, and where I lived was in the middle of nowhere. To be honest there were actual bears there. I killed two."

"Wow, must've been pretty tough."

"It made me into who I am today." She explained, removing parts of the rifle.

"How did the Foundation find you?" He asked, curious.

"Well... I prefer not to talk about it." She said, turning away.

"Oh okay, I'm sorry."

She shook her head.

"Don't be." She looked at her watch. "Let's get back to training."

He nodded and followed her back to the shooting range where he was once again corrected on everything he did for an hour. He made slow progress and could now hit a target in the chest at more than five meters, however further than ten meters was impossible for him to hit. After the training, Ansa proposed him exercises to better his aim to do during his spare time, which he did not think for a second to do.

As he was about the leave he saw Ansa take her rifle and make it to a shooting booth. He observed her as she laid on the ground, took aim by the scope and squeezed the trigger after a few seconds. The rapid moving target was headless, its head completely was torn off from the rest of the body despite its thickness. It was much denser than its counterpart, being at least five centimeters thick.

Ansa cocked her rifle and switched two buttons. The destroyed target was replaced by a new one which began to move erratically at great speed. This booth was isolated from the others by walls with holes in them, however, those holes did not go through the entirety of the wall and inside them were powerful fans. Those fans began to turn and generated a strong wind, enough to deviate a bullet wildly.

Ansa took aim for a few moments, memorizing the pattern of the target and measuring the deviation of the bullet, the distance to the target, which was a good fifty meters away and finally she pulled the trigger. The cardboard head exploded in a flurry of wooden.

Ansa got up, slung the rifle on her back, and exited the range with a calm demeanor. Touma could not tell if he was uncomfortable or amazed.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Misaka Mikoto was sitting on the edge of a cliff, overviewing a desert, Othinus by her side.

"Why do you want to help us find Touma?" She asked. She knew the answer but wanted to hear it.

"He saved me from myself. It's now my turn to return the favor."

Misaka hummed in agreement, kicking her feet in the air.

"Me too." She said, pulling back her knees and burying her face in them. "It's even my fault if he is there."

The small goddess came, flying on her spear, which looked more like a golden toothpick and put herself next to Misaka's face.

"Do not worry Sparky." She said soothingly. "We'll find him back. You, humans, are always worrying about everything."

"Sparky, eh? Well, thanks anyway Othi-chan. He'll be fine, you're right."

"Hey!" Shouted Othinus, flailing her arms. "My name is Othinus, human, respect it!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Said Misaka chuckling. "I will respect thee o Chibi goddess."

"I hate this form." Pouted Othinus.

They shared a laugh as the sun rose.

"It's time." Came the voice of Styil behind them.

They nodded and Othinus lightly shook her lance. An explosion tore the ground, leaving a deep scar in the ground. This hole revealed an underground complex where a dozen magicians were present. Othinus shook her lance once more, teleporting the strike team in their midst. The strike team was composed of herself, Misaka, Styil, Tsuchimikado, Kanzaki, Accelerator, Misaka 10032 and four other Imoutos, 10039, 10055, 13577 and 19090. As they arrived in their midst the magicians backed away in fear. It was for naught as they were quickly and effortlessly dispatched with ruthless efficiency by the strike team. Misaka threw a final bolt of lightning at the last magician, shocking him into unconsciousness.

Othinus then teleported all magicians outside, she was about to teleport herself when Misaka stopped her.

"Where are you going? Where did you send them?" Asked Misaka.

"I have to kill them."

"What? Can't we just take them prisoners?"

"No."

"But... but they're beaten, there's no need to kill them. It's not right."

"I have to. It is my duty. I am the one who created this organization. And I am the one that will destroy it." Said Othinus, floating before Misaka. "They are my mistakes, and I must correct them."

"Can't you... I don't know... talk them out of this?"

"No, I cannot. Those people are too bitter, too desperate. They cannot be saved. Not everyone can, despite what a certain hero would say." She said, and with those last words teleported.

Othinus arrived in the middle of a circle of unconscious magicians. She was about to kill them when a hand weakly waved at her.

"P-p-please... no... no." Pleaded one of them weakly.

She tipped her hat forward and her mouth curled downwards. She shook her lance once more and all the magicians exploded, the pleading drowned by the booming sound. She stared at the small craters with a sad look before teleporting once more to join the others.

They were assembled in the middle of the complex and were currently analyzing a small box. It was made of cardboard and had the number 2207 on it. Othinus hovered near them, noticing the uncomfortable look Misaka gave her. She ignored it and focused on the box, Tsuchimikado analyzed it before finally nodding and opening it. Inside was foam, which was quickly removed to reveal a simple plastic knife.

"So... this is the great relic?" Asked Kanzaki, in disbelief, a feeling shared by the others. A relic was supposed to be... relic-ish, like her Nanasen, not a plastic knife!

"Yup!" Said Tsuchimikado, pushing up his glasses. Othinus nodded and confirmed it was the relic.

"Just let me test it quickly." Said Tsuchimikado, cutting quickly the air before him.

Othinus tried to stop him but it was too late and already a rift opened, a loud sound filled the silence and soon every member of this expedition was swallowed whole by the rift. They found themselves in a void. A literal void, with nothing but the darkest of darkness around them. Nature tried to do its work by filling the void with air, pulling them into the rift. A soon as they arrived in the other dimension, they started to choke from the lack of air, as the precious resource was being taken from their body. As death drew near, Tsuchimikado managed to slice the air once more and cut open a second rift. Luckily, as the physics of this dimension were different, the air did not try to fill the void and merely stayed in place. Gesturing weakly to the other, Tsuchimikado, flew, swim walked, moved toward the rift, entering it and was soon followed by the others. Acceleartor emained motionless but thanks to two Imoutos was quickly pulled in the next rift.

They arrived gasping for air, still floating in a strange place. Everything was light orange, they were floating but still managed to breathe. Around them were other people or rather things floating. They were long, thin rectangular, brown things floating like kites. They had about a dozen eyes on their selves and observed them with what seemed to be curiosity. Behind them could be seen tall floating spires made of some kind of bright blue rocks, where thousands of such creatures were entering and exiting.

One of the creatures opened, what must have been his mouth, a gaping hole in his underside, which quickly revealed dozens of tentacles; the creature released a shrill cry, nearly deafening them all before barreling towards them his maw opened. They all screamed, even Othinus and the normally unflappable Imoutos, as they saw the horror of the maw, which was covered in what seemed to be pus and a liquid of a yet unknown color. The thing was also massive, easily dwarfing a Boeing, as it got closer, it got bigger, not from a perspective, but its mass widened. Not wasting any time Tsuchimikado opened a rift once more and the entire group flew in it.

As they all disappeared, the rift was still opened and the giant, brown manta thing tried to enter but it was too big and only observed them with its eyes. As the rift closed, it could not help but... feel saddened. His brother came next to him.

"I'm sorry. Don't worry, next time dimension travelers come, I'm sure you'll be able to invite them to a lovely tea party and a game of football, dearest brother." Declared his brother in perfect English.

"Maybe it's the cry, they don't like it. But it means 'Welcome' in Intergalactic."

His brother put one of his tentacles on his grevl, comforting him. The dimension hoppers were for their part on a rocky promontory which overlooked a dark deep ocean. A lightning storm coursed over their heads and lightning fell around them. From the sea itself came a tall being. It was humanoid. However, its head held two large beady red eyes, shining with malevolence and it had no mouth, possessing instead, a calamari beak with large tentacles around it. From his back, spurted two giant bat wings. It was taller than a skyscraper as their eyes fell on it, thousands of mad voices spoke at once, their words undecipherable. And it spoke, with the voice of thunder itself.

" **Who art thee, who come in my domain? Thee art not from my world. Thee are intruders and as such thee will die. Unless thee sacrifice one of thy own. This one, I want, on my altar to be sacrificed."** It said, pointing at Othinus.

"Fuck that." Tsuchimikado said, representing everyone's thought. And once more into the rift they were, Accelerator carried by two Imoutos.

The being raged, the thunderstorm becoming more and more potent as he tried to kill them, but he was blocked, his access to the other dimension restricted by whatever rules shaped the multi-verse.

The strike team was this time in a small white room, which walls were covered by posters. They were all pressed against one another. In it was a humanoid, with black hair brushed to the side. He was currently typing on a laptop and as he turned to face them, they tensed, preparing themselves to see an abomination. The humanoid was quite normal, an Asian in its late teen with his portly figure dressed in a black Batman t-shirt and shorts. He looked at them before facepalming and resumed typing on his computer.

"If you cut one more time the space-time continuum you will arrive where you want to be." He declared with a tired voice.

"Who are you?" Asked Othinus, squinting her eyes.

"You may call me..." He said, pausing for a dramatic effect. "The Author." he said looking at them expectantly, but they stayed silent.

He pouted, disappointed.

"Just cut with your knife on more time." He said.

Tsuchimikado did so, he felt strangely compelled to do so and once more the knife opened a rift to another dimension, this one showing a forest.

"You should go." The Author said.

They did so, but before departing Othinus could not help but ask.

"How d-" Before she could finish he rudely cut her.

"I decided to speed up things. Now go."

And with those last sentences, she exited the dimension, entering the new one. The author stayed silent. As the rift closed he looked at the screen once more before an idea went through his head.

"If I'm in the story, who is writing it?" he wondered, looking at the ceiling.

I could not help but repress a snicker before composing myself, wondering if I should really keep that before shrugging. Why the fuck not, let's roll with fourth wall break. And as such the story continued.

The group was in a snowy forest, the tall trees were towering above them, protecting them from the falling snowflakes. The white powder crunched under their feet as they advanced.

"I've found something! Shouts Misaka, while pointing at the corpse she had discovered." Shouted 10039 with a dull voice, indeed pointing at a corpse.

It was male and dressed in a military uniform, the words SCP inscribed on it. The corpse was in a bad state, its limbs were broken, a branch pierced its gut and it was already in a state of decomposition despite the snow.

"I have found a phone matching the Savior's. Declares Misaka, holding a cellphone." Declared 10032.

"Let me see that." Said Tsuchimikado, taking the phone. He inspected the phone and scrolled through it. "Yeah, it's his phone."

"I can also feel his presence." Declared Othinus. "We're in the good dimension."

Relief was felt by the entire group. At least they had succeeded. They just needed to find Touma now. But first. Styil fist connected with Tscuchimikado's face, sending him sprawling on the ground. The cold powder touching his skin and making him shiver.

"Ow. What was that for?"

"That was for opening a rift and nearly getting us all killed." Said Styil, cracking his knuckles.

Tsuchimikado was about to protest but everyone was sending him dark glares, even the usually emotionless Imoutos. He sighed, he wasn't getting out of this one easily. If Kami-nyan was here he could have calmed the girls with his power but alas his friend wasn't here to save him. He looked at the approaching persons and anticlimactically fainted.

As the idiot spy fell on the ground, a terrified look on his face Othinus facepalmed.

"I propose to get out of here." She said.

The proposition was accepted eagerly and she shook her lance to be teleported to... somewhere more comfortable. However as she waved her lance, they teleported, five meters further. Othinus in her smallness fell on the ground, panting.

"My powers... they are weakened. I have to tune myself to the magic of this world." She explained.

"We also have lost contact with the rest of the Misaka Network. Announces Misaka, worried."

"The Accelerator is also unable to move due to the loss of signal. Declares Misaka, worried about the Number One state."

It was true as the mighty and arrogant Accelerator was breathing harshly, unable to do anything, as he was carried by the two clones.

The group stayed silent before Kanzaki spoke.

"Well let's walk now."

And as they walked, Tsuchimikado waked up by a painful slap, snow began to fell, hiding their footsteps. And soon they disappeared under the white rain.

**A CERTAIN SCP**


	11. Bright's Test and Trouble

"Where is it?!" Yelled a man, holding a knife close to another's throat.

The threatened man spat in the face of his interrogator, who reeled before delivering a vicious hook to his victim. The man spat blood as he fell on the ground, tied to his chair. The interrogator then crouched next to him a second time, before stabbing him and twisting a knife in his wound. The man screamed in pain.

"Where. Is. It?!"

The man said nothing but kept screaming as he felt the tip of the knife touch his bone. He stopped, panting hard, but still looking defiantly at the man.

"Hmm? Not saying anything, eh? We'll see about that."

He got up and made his way to a small table, where he took a small vial of liquid and poured it in a syringe.

"This." He showed. "Will fog your mind, helping us get the answers we seek. Combined with the pain you will feel, you'll soon spill everything."

The interrogator then approached him, holding the syringe in his hand, he crouched once more.

"Last chance to talk."

The man shivered but shut his mouth. The interrogator frowned and jabbed the syringe in the man's arm. As the liquid spread in his organism, the man began to laugh, crying from mirth but also sadness.

"What's so funny?!" Asked the interrogator, gripping his victim's collar.

"I'm gonna die." Replied the man with a sad grin, and indeed his body became rigid before going slack.

The man's eyes rolled in his orbits before he began foaming and spasming. The interrogator got up and reached for another vial, trying desperately to inject the antidote but it was for naught as the interrogated died, blood, saliva, and other substances dripping of every orifice, including his pores. The interrogator screamed in rage, throwing his knife into the wall.

Another man slipped into the room, silently before patting the enraged man on the back.

"Calm down, Matthew." He said. "Damn, that stinks."

The interrogator calmed down, exhaling deeply.

"Yeah, you're right. Try to see if you can do something with his brain, George. I'm going to clean off this blood." He said, slipping into another room as George crouched next to the corpse, painting a pentagram on its face.

He entered the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. He was in a pitiable state, dark rings surrounded his eyes, his hair was disheveled and he had a three-day beard. He cursed in Gaelic. Damn that President, damn the High Thaumaturgists and damn those Foundation Agents. They were as slippery like eels, tough like bears and as suicidal as wasps. It must have been the fourth Foundation agent they managed to track down in a week, the third before had performed suicide before they could be captured and the last one just fooled them into killing him. He dried his face with a towel and threw a disgusted look at his white shirt. He removed it, showing a muscular body before putting on a t-shirt and a hoodie. He reached for his tools in his shirt and slipped them in the pockets of his hoodie or his pants and exited the bathroom.

George and he were currently in an abandoned house near Los Angeles, outside snow was falling over the pines. It had been a wild goose chase throughout the entire country, they had started from Philadelphia, went to Florida and Iowa before finally arriving here in California. Despite not making any actual progress, he could feel they were close, so close.

He returned to the main room, to ask George about his finding. He found his friend, kneeling near the corpse, his brows crunched his frustration as he drove his obsidian knife in the heart of the corpse, muttering a litany in an ancient and secret language.

" _Ko sakaraet du sprit ovekt pu mu."_ He finished his chanting, cutting his palm with the already bloodied obsidian knife, his blood mixing with the corpses'.

His brow crunched even further and his face tightened before he sighed, opening his eyes to meet Matthew's own. He shook his head.

"I do not know what they gave him but his memories are all black with the word 'Confidential' appearing. It must have been the reaction caused by the truth serum and whatever thing they gave him that caused this. Or they put a spell blocker in his mind, but I doubt that. I should have been able to break through it."

"Dammit." Said Matthew, sitting on a couch. "We need reinforcements on this case."

"Yeah." Nodded George, taking a place next to his friend.

"Why did we agree to this again?" Asked Matthew.

"I believe Chandar sent us because you wouldn't stop bothering him about us being Field Operators and not desk jockeys."

"Oh yeah, I regret it a bit."

"Me too."

"Hey, don't be like you're innocent in this. You were with me when we asked Chandar to get us back on the field." Protested Matthew.

"I suppose you're right." Grumbled George.

The two stayed silent before chuckling.

"Want a beer?" Asked George.

"Sure do."

George got up, heading to the kitchen to take some cold ones in the mini fridge. Meanwhile, Matthew went to the corpse, kicking it lightly before sighing. Crouching, he drew runes with a red marker, took the corpse on his shoulders and threw it into a bathtub before snapping his finger. The body took fire, burning at an alarming speed, consuming the body. The only remains being the garments which were fireproof it seemed.

"Catch that." Shouted George as he threw a beer at Matthew who caught it without looking.

He opened it with his lighter and took his first gulp, the bitter taste of alcohol washing down his mouth and throat. He sighed and took the clothes. Too bad he should have used an anti fireproof spell to burn them too. He was about to do so when something fell from the suit's inner pocket. Curious, he bent and took it, he swore he had a searched thoroughly the suit and looked at the object. It was a photograph, it depicted the former agent, a woman in her thirties with blond hair and a young girl, not even ten. They were all smiling brightly, behind them was a view of Santa Monica beach. 'Be safe out there and come back' was written on the photo. Matthew rolled his eyes. How cliché, an Agent was not supposed to have anything to identify him on himself, this one was either an idiot or he was too cocky, thinking about it it probably was both.

As he took a second gulp of beer, he realized something and promptly choked on his drink. He coughed the alcohol as George asked him if everything was okay.

"I've got a lead!" He said.

"Really?"

"Yeah, look at this." He threw the photo like a Frisbee and George caught it.

His partner looked at the photo before arching an eyebrow.

"A woman and a brat?" He asked in disbelief. "How they're gonna help us? Agent's families don't know their husband's job."

Matthew came next to him and pointed him the words.

"Be safe out there and come back, means she knows he is doing something dangerous, she might be employed by the Foundation."

"Or his cover is being an FBI, CIA agent or whatever dangerous position."

"Maybe, but we have to try, at this point we'll soon be tracked down ourselves. If we have to find something it's now or never." Said Matthew, looking at his friend dead in the eye.

"... Why not. But do we even know where they are, I mean Seshat is powerful but finding those faces in the US, with all the calculation she's doing with the shitstorm going on will be long."

"No need to. This picture was taken at Santa Monica beach, I went there once, and the words come home means they must live in LA or at least California."

"Okay, that's the stuff, Sherlock. Let's ask Seshat."

"C'mon it's basic logic, you just can't use your brain."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." Said George as he took a pen.

He brought it to his lips and spoke.

"Requesting immediate connection to Seshat, code Psi-Four-Sigma-Five-Wyvern-Zero-Rho-Eight."

" _Access granted, Agent, what answer doth thou seek?"_ Came a feminine voice.

"I need facial recognition and the localization of this person." He said, holding the pen so the ballpoint would face the photo. "Filter to Los Angeles, United States of America, present year, present continuum."

" _Please standby... Done. Abigail Winchester, and her daughter Diana Winchester. Residing at 6000 North Seaglass Circuit. Do you wish further information?"_ Asked the voice.

"No thanks. End communication." Said George, putting back his pen in his pocket.

"Let's gear up, back in gray."

They smiled. Back on the field wasn't so bad after all.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Another one bites the dust. Or rather once more he bit the dust. Touma got up, with a pained expression on his face.

"C'mon. Show me what you got."

He turned his head to see Wanda in guard, fists raised and lightly jumping to the side. They were both panting hard. They had been training for an hour in hand to hand combat. Touma had first been confident, he was a rather good hand to hand fighter and his precognition, honed over the years, had often saved his life from better fighters. Not with Wanda. She had been able to counter most of his attack, and brutally throw him on the floor, multiple times. She cracked her knuckles and gestured at him to get up.

Wanda for her part, acted as if everything was fine. It was not. There had been way too many close calls. In an actual fight, she even might have lost. She had never seen someone as reactive as him in her career. However, he lacked technique and strength. As she suspected he did not have a lot of formal knowledge in fighting, resulting in a street style of fighting, combining dodges and quick punches. That would have been fine against thugs or untrained people, but not against what they might go against.

Touma got up, put himself in position and stood his ground as Wanda began circling around him. She began to approach him slowly, before lunging with a right hook. He caught it with his right hand and tried to twist her arm. She kicked him in the stomach, making him release her. She did not stop and threw him a flurry of punch, which he dodged. He managed to take hold of her two arms, pulled her toward him and head-butted her. She reeled back in pain, clutching her face. He stopped, looking at her, worried. He hit her too hard, in the heat of the moment he acted on in his instincts.

"Are you ok-"

He did not finish as his feet were not on the ground anymore. He closed his eyes as he saw the ceiling, preparing for the pain. "Fukou da" he thought as he hit the ground. Once more he bit the dust. He groaned in pain, getting up, his back telling him to stay down but his pride to stand up.

"My grandma hits harder! Come on bruv!"

He sighed, why did he even do this? He was interrupted from his musing by an unknown voice.

"You won't get to anything just by beating him repeatedly."

They both turned to see a man slouched on a chair, his face was covered by a wide-brimmed hat and his lab coat was open revealing a black shirt with a tie. He looked rather chubby when seeing him, Wanda could not help but feel disgusted towards the man. Touma just looked at the stranger with curiosity. He was sure he had seen no one enter.

"If you're trying to teach him how to fight. Do it properly. Throwing him on the ground senselessly won't do any good."

Wanda arched an eyebrow.

"Who are you?"

"I'm just a bored scientist. Oh my, look at the time, better go." He said and before Wanda could ask him any more question, he was out.

As Alto Clef, Head of the Division of Training and Development exited the sparring room he scowled. So it was him. He indeed had it. He could feel it. He was dangerous. Too much. His scowl deepened as he dived into the depths of Site-19.

In the sparring room, Wanda was ready to spar with Touma once more when he sighed and fell flat on his back. She arched an eyebrow.

"What are you doing?"

"It's useless, you're just going to put me flat on the ground and that's all."

"Come on, that's how you learn, by combat."

"But why do I need to learn?"

"W-" She stopped.

Thinking about it, why did he need to learn how to fight? To survive missions. But why did he need to go on missions? Because he had been conscripted into Alpha-Niner. Why was he in Alpha-Niner? Because he was under Foundation custody. Thinking about it, he only needed to learn because the Foundation forced him to fight for them. She sat next to him.

"Because you want to protect people. I mean you agreed immediately to help two strangers kept as hostages by terrorists without hesitation." She looked at the ceiling. "I know the Foundation is not the funniest organization in the world but we're doing all we can to protect people."

"..."

"I know you never wanted this but maybe... you will like it? The Foundation will reward you for everything that you have done."

"Maybe... But is the Foundation really doing what is right?"

"Of course!" Said Wanda, immediately. "The Foundation is the best organization out there. The Coalition are mostly fanatics, fascists, uncaring of 'normies' or all three. The Insurgency are traitors, they are just a bunch of misfits, criminals, and lunatics. Don't even talk about the UIU, they can't even protect a city. And all the other cults, religions and anomalous corporations are all idiots driven by their own ambitions." She finished her rant with an upset face.

"Wow, you sure know a lot about the others."

"Yeah, I've worked long enough to know some things about them. But really the Foundation is the best. I swear to you."

Touma stayed silent for a few minutes.

"I'll trust your judgment." He said, making her smile brightly. "But I wish I got more freedom, I wish I could just get out."

"Why don't you ask?" She asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Eh? What do you mean?"

"Your request form. You can ask for out of site time. I mean Iris has some. Since you're also a member of Alpha-9 they should accept."

"Really? I mean wouldn't they be wary about something like that."

"A bit, but eventually they'll have to give in. I mean it wouldn't be ethic to do so."

"I'll ask about it then."

"Great, then up! Back to it mate."

"Yeaaah..." He said weakly.

As she saw his lack of motivation, she remembered the stranger's words. Sparring endlessly wouldn't teach him anything, only build up his already considerable stamina and just disgust him from training. No, she had to teach him, techniques, train him. Just like those old bastards of drill sergeants.

" _My fucking god Carter! Not like that Carter! Take his wrist then punch his guts! Yeah like that! Now put him on the ground! Good! Looks like you can do something else than crawl in the mud, recruit! Did I tell you to stop? Drop and give me ten!"_

Or the even worse Foundation instructor.

_"Ya fooking wimps! I said take tha arm, twist yerself, and throw'im over yer shoulder! Ya fooking cunts! It's not difficult! My fookin god! They get fookin worse every year! Ya Carter loike that! Now that's a gud throw, eh? Do loike her ye burf ups. Whatch'a think you're doing now, Carter? Drop and give me fifty! Keep going you lots if you don't want me boot in yer arse"_

The problem was, Touma was no soldier and she was no instructor. The few military ones she had were just great at yelling and reciting textbook techniques. She had to make him learn. As she was thinking, Touma was drifting around the room. She had been silent for a few minutes and was literally doing nothing. He sighed.

However, someone entered the room, causing both of them to turn towards the door. Quietly Mishimoto stepped in, she nodded at Wanda before greeting Touma.

"Hello, Mr. Kamijou. Are you available for a discussion in my office?"

Wanda was about to intervene, but Touma beat her to it.

"Umm. Yes, I think." He said, giving Wanda a sideway glance. He would do anything to get out of this torture.

Wanda looked at him, surprised, glanced back at an expecting Mishimoto and sighed. She nodded, giving her consent. Mishimoto nodded, satisfied, she gestured to Touma to follow her. He waved goodbye at Wanda who replied in kind and soon he was trailing behind her in the Site's bland hallway. Its workers going left and right, up and down. As always Site-19 buzzed with the life. Many took a step to the side as Touma followed his savior. He looked down, rather saddened, with the lack of freedom but nothing was worse than how the personnel treated him. Most avoided him, out of fear or disgust, it was depressing, he was a freak in their eyes.

He was shaken from his thoughts when came a gurgle, strangely the sounds of talking had ceased. He looked up, just in time to see an orange blob come at him at great speed. He stepped back, panicked and in a few seconds managed to analyze what was barreling toward him. It was indeed a big blob of orange... jelly? Even more strange, it possessed big black eyes, radiating happiness and cuteness. It was sliding like a slug on the ground, but much faster, the thing emitted a high pitch but adorable gurgle. It opened a large toothless maw, filled with candies and chocolates. Three guards were running behind it, trying to restrain it.

"999, come back boy!"

Laughs, whistles, friendly smiles and waved came from the staff, directed towards the little orange hellion. It soon changed to bewilderment and panic as the blob launched itself at Touma. Jumping on the unlucky boy it tackled him to the ground. As his back was about to hit the hard floor, it was cushioned by a thick, gluey substance. Touma opened his eyes as he felt his current state. He was currently wrapped up to the chest by a thick layer of bright orange goo. He tried to move but was firmly held down on the floor. He noticed that his right hand was free, the goo just reaching the middle of his forearm. He realized that the thing straddling him was anomalous and touching it with its right hand would kill it and even Touma felt he couldn't bring himself to end its life. He decided to stay immobile, confident that the guards would help him. He hoped.

As he focused on the little thing, he noticed small tendrils coming near his face and neck. Strangely he began to relax, happy memories coming to him. The tendrils finally touched his face. He resigned to whatever horrible fate would come, but strangely the tendrils tickled him. Tickle as in doing a human interaction designed to make someone laugh. And laugh he did. He giggled, snorted and laughed loudly as he was tickled mercilessly. The cute thing cooing and laughing on her own.

"Hahahaha! Ha- st- st- stop. Hahaha stop I-I-i can't t-take it a-anymohahahahhare."

His pleading was for naught as the devious blob gurgled what seemed like a disagreement. As the 'hug' continued he could not help but feel happy. The scent of cocoa invaded his nose, relaxing him even more. He let himself sink in the blob, laughing. It continued for an untold number of minutes, calming him, making him laugh and relaxing him before the hug ended. The happy anomaly detaching itself from him, gurgling happily. Touma got up, wiping the tears of mirth from his eyes.

The three security officers came next to the gurgling blob, trying to distance him from Touma. In the end, 999 left, waving happily at a still chuckling Touma. He watched the orange slime crawl away, he realized he had never felt so good. Maybe he had before he lost his memories, but as of now, it had been the best moment of his life. He barely noticed the staff around him talking in hushed whispers. Some actually had a smile on their faces, chuckling at the cutenesses of the interaction.

"I see you met 999." Said Mishimoto, coming behind him chuckling.

"Haha, yeah, he's always like that?" He asked.

"I think yes. If we could get moving, my office is not far away."

"Of course." He said, following her.

She would not admit it but she was happy that 999 cheered Touma up for three reasons. The first being that Touma deserved it, with all he did in the recent days, a small but efficient break like this one was necessary. The second being the utmost cuteness of what happened. She was sure even the most cold-hearted of killers would have his heart melt at the sight. She regretted not filming it, but taking videos inside the Foundation unauthorized was forbidden. Finally, the interaction would help her in what she had planned, it was unforeseen but welcome. Thinking about it, it was maybe unethical.

She entered her new office, Touma trailing behind her. The office was smaller than her previous one and was rather bland, with the few Foundation propaganda posters coloring the room with bright colors. She sat in her desk's chair and invited Touma to do the same in the sofa. He sat instead of laying, waiting for her to talk.

"Do you know why I made you come here?" She asked, joining both hands and putting her head on her hands.

"Nope." He replied, still dazed from his earlier encounter.

"Well, it is very simple. I just wish to learn more about you." She replied with a smile.

"You mean like small talk?" He asked, curious.

"Exactly. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not." He said, without thinking.

"Great. Where did you live in Japan? Before Academy City." She began aggressively.

He looked away, getting a bit more uncomfortable. Truth to be told he had no idea.

"Kansai, yes Kansai."

"You lived in Osaka?"

"Yeah, yeah."

Liar, she thought but kept her expression positive. He could not hide it. Interesting. Why would he lie?

"Why did you went to Academy City?"

"Umm, it was more my parent's choice, they sent me there after kindergarten. They heard it was a great city to study in. I managed to get in."

"Interesting, so your parents did not come with you?"

Touma despite his dazed state started to feel that the conservation was turning towards an interrogation, but kept answering.

"No, Academy City, accept only a handful of adults and tries to bring mainly students."

"I see."

She knew something wasn't right. He had talked to her about his parents, they were not the type to do this. Thus it brought two problematics. Either Touma lied about his parents or something happened, something terrible enough to make them send their child to another country where the would barely see him grow up. Both could explain his evasiveness about his past. She had to dig in, dig more.

"What about you Mishimoto-san?" He asked, scratching his head, trying to redirect the conversation.

She noticed his attention, her already high suspicion meter rose even further. However as it was still a conversation, she decided to humor him, it would be less suspicious that way. She may have been too straightforward.

"What about me?" She asked for precision.

"Well, where did you come from in Japan?"

"I'm from Tokyo, Azabu more specifically." She said.

"Wow, you're an Oujo." He said he knew Azabu was the most expensive neighborhood in Tokyo. It was the kind of neighborhood people like the one in the School Garden came from.

Mishimoto looked away, gritting her teeth. She should have lied. If he knew she was from the upper classes, he could be warier of her. After all, there was always a rift between social classes and she doubted Touma's world was different in that regard. And even then, she hated being called that. It was the kind of things that reminded her of her family.

"No, I may have been born there but I'm no Oujo." She answered.

He nodded before asking a second question.

"How did you end up working for the Foundation?" He was rather curious to know how the Foundation recruited its personnel.

"... I managed to skip some classes and ended up in university when I studied there. The Foundation has contacts in nearly all universities, faculties or academies. They offered me a job and I took it, I knew it could be most interesting." She answered.

To be honest, she studied psychology just to contradict her father. She accepted the Foundation's offer just to escape his clutches, in the end, she had appreciated the job. She never wanted what he had imposed upon her. She had often nurtured the idea to escape by herself, but she knew her father's reach was simply too large. The Foundation had promised her a fresh start, no one to track her down, total anonymity as well as the possibility for groundbreaking discoveries. There had been no hesitation. She had found her way.

"Speaking of that." She took control once more of the conversation. "What did you study in Academy City? Do you have a particular course or a general one?"

"We mostly have scientific courses, such as some on Espers or personal reality."

Ah yes, the famous espers and their personal reality. Just like reality benders, those espers projected their reality on the world. Touma did spoke about them, they were most peculiar. While reality benders were hard to come by, and the real ones had their power since birth, creating such people via scientific means and in such numerous effective was nothing short of frightening. At least they were children or teenagers, so they were less dangerous but what could happen when they'd grow up, becoming adults? They could do a lot of damage. She was relieved to know they were a few dimensions away.

"Umm, that must have been very interesting. But tell me what did you do, out of class?"

He hesitated, opening his mouth before closing it. Her eyes observed every muscle on his face, analyzing the slightest of movement, at that moment he was like an open book before her.

"Nothing, really, I had a lot of homework."

He lied for the second time. He may have a lot of homework but she knew he did things. Probably dangerous, explaining the scars on his body. She pressed on.

"Even in middle school, or elementary?"

And at that moment, she observed something new, something she had never seen but could still interpret. He did not know. He wasn't lying no, he simply had no clue. She had talked to the medical doctor and knew that some of his scars dated back to elementary and even kindergarten. She was absolutely flabbergasted. How could he not know? It wouldn't surprise her if he was lying, he had kept doing so since the first interview. But this time he was genuinely caught off guard, without the time to lie. He did not know. She was not asking for a specific memory, what she asked could easily be answered. But here he was, like a deer caught in the daylights. Dazed and pressed so much, he was clueless, as he tried to find a lie.

She was about to question him when a voice from her desk's inter-phone came.

" _SCP-0000 is asked to come back ASAP to his containment chamber."_

Touma, once again, took the excuse to get out of a bad situation. Thanking whatever granted him those two getaways, knowing his luck to have been expanded for the rest of the year, and they were barely in February.

"Oh, looks like I have to go." He said, heading for the exit.

Mishimoto tightened her features in frustration, she was so close to discovering what happened to Touma. She sighed, it would be for another time. As he was about to leave, she stopped him.

"Do you know where it is?"

He stopped, he did not. The Site was a literal maze. The same bland corridors stretched endlessly, with very few hallmarks to situate oneself and no indications. According to Wanda, it was designed to stop people from escaping, from invading forces to progress easily into the Site. All personnel was expected to learn where to go. However, it sometimes took months to learn how to navigate in the bowels of the Site. Even Wanda often lost herself and had to ask to get to where she wanted to go.

Touma cocked his head back, meeting Mishimoto's eyes with his own. She giggled internally at his awkward and shamed expression, she only let a slight smile show itself. She got up herself and headed toward the door herself.

"Follow me, I know how to get here." She said, leading the way.

They walked for a few minutes in silence, a rather awkward atmosphere following them. Mishimoto broke the silence.

"How do you find Site-19 thus far?" She asked casually.

He took a bit of time to answer.

"My room is bigger, I guess that's cool. And you?"

She smiled.

"Good."

Truth to be told, it was here that she found herself at home. Despite all the blandness and danger of the Site, she could not help but feel like she belonged here. Everyone here was a genius. The staff was composed of the brightest people that could be found on earth. She was finally treated as an equal and could have long and meaningful discussions without being rejected or talked to haughtily. There was no rumor surrounding her, she melted in the mass of scientists. That was exactly what she wanted. Even the guards were remarkably intelligent, maybe not in social interaction. But they had an extensive scientific and psychological training.

Well except for her new boss. Dr. Bright despite his genius was probably on the craziest and most irritating man she had ever had the misfortune to meet. She had been legitimately excited and grateful at the prospect of working under him. He was one of the Foundation's legend. The kind of man supposed to stay in the shadow but whose deeds were simply too legendary, too important to be hidden. He was one of the (in)famous Riders of the Apocalypse of the Foundation, with Dr. Clef, Dr. Gear and Dr. Kondraki. Those four were the pillars of the Foundation folklore. Numerous rumors circulated around them. Some said they saved the world and entire dimensions. Some said, they went toe to toe with some of the most dangerous SCPs in existence and came out victorious. The most extravagant one was that Dr. Kondraki had managed to ride SCP-682, like a horse and even vanquished him. This last one was probably false.

Anyway. She had been cruelly disappointed when she realized that the legendary immortal doctor was an insufferable jerk. He was haughty, arrogant and kept playing with the life of those around him. Even proposing her to give tummy rubs to 682! He was a sociopath who had introduced Foundation recruits by making them meet some of the most dangerous SCPs, such as 173 and 049, showing them a live dissection, perpetrated by the Plague Doctor. While this could have been marked as harmless, he made them stay when the dissected corpse came back to life, throwing itself against the observation bay. One of the recruits had fainted, the others threw up, only one stayed stony, she swore she saw a hint of a smile on his face. Great another sociopath. Worse was that she could say nothing about it. Bright had made her sign a clause, she could not divulge certain experiments. And he had counted this introduction as one. She could only hope that the Human Resources or the Internal Department would finally catch up with his action and punish him accordingly.

"Nice. Hey, I made a request to go outside, just for a bit, do you think they'll accept it?" He asked, out of the blue.

She thought about it for a bit.

"Yes, I think so." She answered. To be honest, she was not sure.

"Great." He said, with a smile.

They finally arrived at Touma's containment chamber. Before it was his scientific staff and Dr. Light. Bright smiled when he saw Touma approach.

"Great! You're here. And Mishimoto too. While you're here you should accompany us."

She nodded as Touma stepped forward.

"What are we going to do?"

The immortal doctor gestured to follow him, as he began to walk in the opposite direction.

"We're going testing!" He announced cheerfully. "Now follow!"

"Testing what? With who?" Touma asked.

"You'll see!" Shouted Bright excited, while Light sighed.

He exchanged look with Mishimoto, he gulped. He did not like where this was going. They descended into the depths of the Site. The sight of guards becoming more and more frequent. Security doors became thicker with tough looking electronic locks. They finally arrived at a door with the number 012 over it. A photo of the SCP could be seen. It was a simple music partition and before he could see the specifications, he was pulled forward by Bright, who was currently sporting an excited grin.

"You know I couldn't wait to experiment on you! This gonna be sooo cool."

He opened the door, wiping his keycard, the control panel beeped green and the door opened, revealing a flight of stairs going down. The good doctor walked down the stairs, the others in tow. They finally arrived at a room with a large control panel and screen with levers. A man in a blue jumpsuit was already inside, fiddling with a bulky device possessing a tow. He glanced at them and nodded.

"Good timing, I've just finished. I'll leave you to it." He said, shaking hands with the doctor who thanked him before climbing up the stairs.

"Alright people! Get in position!" Announced Bright dramatically, the staff sighed and pressed themselves against the walls, Mishimoto and Touma were confused but decided to follow the others. "Perfect. Now Zero, come here." He called Touma who came near him.

"Tie yourself to the tow." He instructed, waving at the device.

"What?" Touma asked, confused.

Bright rolled his eyes and spoke once more, slowly.

"Take the device, put the tow around your waist." He ordered.

Touma did as he was told, confused and skeptic. He took the tow, it looked like a seatbelt, which he put around his waist. It was a bit loose but soon Adam walked to him and adjusted it so it fitted perfectly around him, clamping him. Adam also gave him the device, which was heavy.

"Good. Now enter the room." Declared Bright, pulling down a lever labeled 'Door', which had the effect to open a blast door to a second room.

Once more Touma obeyed, entering the chamber. It was darkened with only a few weak red lights illuminating the middle of it, on the ceiling was a hoist holding something he could not see. The door closed behind him and he turned back, only to see the concerned look of Mishimoto before the door sealed him from the rest.

" _Please attach the device to the wall next to the door, please. Put the flat part on the wall and push the two red buttons on the top."_

Touma did so, the device clamped on the wall with a dull thump, firmly attached.

" _Great, now please push the green button below where the rope is coming."_

Once again he executed his orders. Apparently satisfied, Bright spoke once more.

" _Beginning Test 012-0000-1. Initiating now."_

As soon as he finished his sentence, the hoist came down. Curious, Touma looked at it, wondering what thing could be carried by such a device. As the hoist finally reached its lowest level with a cacophony of noise, it revealed the music partition he saw earlier. However, unlike a normal partition, it was written in red. In blood. His eyes widened. He did not like where this was going. Just as he was about to protest he felt the compulsion to look behind him toward the partition. His eyes were glued on it, he took one step forward. He could hear, no, feel the music. His eyes danced upon the letters, the music filling his ears. It was... divine. He had never heard something so poetic, so beautiful, so harmonic so... so... His eyes widened when the music stopped, panicked he looked at the partition. He had reached the end. There were no further notes. No! No! No! It could not be. This music, this heavenly music, this music, whispering at his ear like a corrupting demon could not cease. No, it had to continue. He hadn't realized he had walked to the partition. His eyes were glued on the empty part of the partition. He had to complete it. He felt the music come to him, feeling it around him. He had never learned music but at this moment he felt like a musical genius. The likes of Mozart, Beethoven, De Bussy, Tchaikovsky, and Grhuonfs, whoever that was.

Desperately he looked for something to write, but to his utmost horror, he had nothing! His eyes snapped back to the partition. It was written in blood. He understood. For the heavenly music to continue he had to use his blood. It was the only way. For the music of life to continue, he had to use the fluid of life. He was about to cut his palm, or anything really with his nails, despite their lack of edge when he was pulled back. The device pulled the tow, bringing him against the wall, despite his protests and struggle. The partition was once more hoisted in the air. Mishimoto entered the room, coming next to him.

"Dammit, are you alright?" She asked.

His eyes fluttered, he felt tired, confused, his recent memories seemed hazy. He looked at her, meeting her black concerned eyes.

"Yeah, don't worry."

"Did you hear us?" She asked.

He widened his eyes. They had talked to him?

"I'll take that as a no, then." Spoke Bright, entering the room. "Are you ready to go for round two?" He asked.

"Ummh..." Hesitate Touma.

"Great!" Said Bright, taking this as a positive answer.

"Dr. !" Called Mishimoto. "I think this is too e-"

She was cut off by a dismissively waving Bright.

"You're a psychologist Mishimoto, not a researcher. Let us do our work. You can go if you prefer."

She gritted her teeth, huffed and exited the chamber, sparing an apologetic glance at Touma who shrugged. She stayed in observation bay, observing the video feed of the room. Mobius pushed a button on a device looking like a detonator, freeing Touma from his restraint. Bright neared his mouth close to the microphone.

"Please keep your right hand on your head." Commanded Bright. "Only remove it when ordered to."

In the room, Touma nodded and put his hand near his head. The hoist came down once more, unveiling the composition. Touma steeled himself, expecting the deceitful, sweet, diabolic and divine music to play. However, nothing happened. He felt nothing, no compulsion to finish the composition nor he felt the music play around him, invading his being.

" _Please approach the anomaly."_ Instructed Bright.

Carefully, Touma walked toward the composition, his footsteps echoing in the large silent room. He looked at the composition, slowly. Unveiling the different notes, written in blood, forming, for him, an undecipherable story.

" _How do you feel?"_ Asked Bright.

"Normal." Answered Touma, simply.

" _Perfect. Make your way out of the room. And remove the device. Do what you did but in a reverse order."_ Ordered Bright.

Touma was more than happy to oblige. He pushed the green button, the two reds and removed the device. He exited the room, meeting the expecting glance of the staff. Adam took the device, removing the cord from around Touma's waist. He thanked him and turned back to a happily humming Bright.

"What the hell was that?" He asked Bright;

The man turned to face him, glasses reflecting the light.

"That was SCP-012. It's a composition." He explained soberly.

"What I want to know is what it does." Asked Touma angrily.

Irritatingly, Bright grinned.

"When seen, it'll force someone to continue writing the partition with its own blood. The subject will then proceed to write as much as he can and will often die from severe blood loss. There had been cases of suicide when a subject completed a part of it" He answered.

Touma took a step back. "How?" This was insane. And he just walked in there, ignorant.

"Don't worry we pulled you back before anything could happen." Explained Bright, proudly. "We were sure your right hand would stop the effects."

Touma arched an eyebrow. Bright saw the look Touma was giving him.

"Even if it hadn't worked we would've pulled you back with this tow cable." He indicated the said device. "We pulled you back, no harm done. More data for us, and a good behavior stamp for you." Said the brown-haired doctor.

Light stepped in, putting an appeasing hand on Touma's shoulder;

"Don't worry, we do not play with lives. Everything we do is ultra secured."

Touma relaxed, Light seemed to be a more trustworthy person than Bright, due to her lack of... eccentricities.

"Now... Dearest Imagine Breaker, if you could follow us." Gestured the good doctor.

Touma froze, narrowing his eyes.

"Imagine Breaker? I never told you my power's name. How did you find out?" He asked, suspicious.

Bright and Light with verve, managed to nearly supernaturally coordinate themselves, to deceive Touma.

"Don't you remember? You shouted it during the fight during the hostage rescue." Said Light, lying without a hint of dishonesty.

As natural as a virgin forest, Bright lied.

"Yeah, you were like 'If you think you can kill people, I'll destroy this illusion of yours with my Imagine Breaker' or something like that." He said making punching motions, mocking a boxer's position.

The lie was bought, nay naively gobbled up by the entire room, even Mishimoto normally used to see through the veil of deception. Touma nodded, he was actually not surprised, it was his style to say something in the heat of the action.

"Now, proud knight of the Foundation! Follow us!" Shouted Bright, quickly climbing the flight of stairs.

Light sighed, gesturing to the others to follow. Exiting the room and after crossing numerous bland corridors, passing checkpoints, mean-looking guards, bored janitors, excited or depressed scientists they finally arrived at a door. The number 055 marked upon it. Suddenly Bright stopped.

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaait." He drawled. "Whaaaaat are weeeee doing heeeeeere?" He asked, pointing at Light.

She opened her mouth, before closing it and repeating the action. Effectively miming a fish. Her eyes were veiled by doubt.

Bright searched in his pocket, before finding a crumpled note.

 _DON'T FORGET TO TEST ON 055!_ Was written on it. Followed by: _WAIT WHO?_ Bright's eyes lighted up.

"Yup. Yup. Yup. I remember now! We're testing on 055!"

"Oh yeah!" answered Light, turning to the door. "Probably why we are here."

"Hmmm excuse me, what's SCP-055?" Asked Touma.

"Basically, we don't know." Explained Bright. "It's harmless, but hmmm, it does... it does... who were we talking about again?"

Once again, nobody could answer before Touma pointed at the door.

"That?"

"Oh yeah, hmmm harmless, just make you forget what it looks like or what it is. Just wanna know how it looks like. The whole Site been betting on what it is. Well, most have forgotten 'bout it. But still. It'll be great to get some mon- more data."

Everyone looked at him, and he coughed from embarrassment.

"Anyway. Enter the room, and here take this." He said, putting a small device on his collar. "Press the red button if you have problems and the cavalry will come immediately. If you simply wish to end the test press it twice."

Touma nodded and stepped in an airlock as Bright swiped his key-card.

"Good luck with... well what you're doing." Yelled Bright.

Before Touma could answer, the door closed. The airlock was closed engulfed in darkness before lighting up as the second door opened. He stepped in as soon as he could. The room was blank and small and in the middle rested [DATA LOST. INITIATING DATA RETRIEVAL... EXPECTED TIME... ONE (1) WEEK].

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Everyone's ready?" Asked G.L.

Around him were around thirty mercenaries. They were gruff in appearance, sporting beards, tattoos, and shades. They wore a mix of bulletproof jackets, baseball caps, combat trousers, and ranger boots, most colored in desert camo. Many tattoos indicated an ex-appartenance to various infantry branches of the US military, such as the Marines or Paratroopers. There was also the two members of the Hand, Kendrick, and Jordan. They were sporting casual clothes as well as a backpack.

"Yeah, don't worry kid." Said a tall man in his forties. "We know our job, but what about you?"

He was the leader of the mercenaries, he went by the name 'Fragger'. G.L narrowed his eyes.

"Of course I do. So are you sure you have experience with the paranormal world, in term of military engagement?"

"For fuck's sake, yes we do. We're no amateurs. MC&D hired us." The man said, irritated.

"Cool, then. We go in ten minutes."

Fragger grunted and turned away, chatting with his men. G.L himself went to talk with Kendrick and Jordan.

"Brother, you sure we can trust them?" Asked Kendrick, observing the mercenaries with distrust.

"I don't like those guys, dude." Added Jordan.

"Don't worry guys, they'll have to keep us alive. The first reason is that MC&D wouldn't want the Hand to fight them. They seem to try to forge an alliance. Second is that they need us for the operation. And even if they were to betray us at the end. We'll be long gone." Explained G.L.

The two looked at each other, before shrugging.

"I'll trust you on that." Said the one with dreadlocks.

"If you're wrong we'll haunt you, even if you died with us." Finished the one with the man-bun.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry guys." Said G.L, waving dismissively in the air. "But, you ready?"

"Hell yeah!" Confirmed the two. "We brought some spare clothes too. Don't wanna be naked, amirite?" They finished by fist-bumping each other.

"Great. I'll be waiting." Said G.L, walking away.

As the two brothers in everything but blood began chatting G.L want to a table. On it was a map, showing a warehouse, several photos in black and white or color were sprawled on the table. They depicted people, manly men in Prohibition-era styled clothes, sporting hats, coats, and ties as well as weapons. A man with a large birthmark on his eye was circled with a red marker.

G.L spent the last ten minutes, observing the map, repeating the plan. It was very simple but at this moment, it seemed like the hardest thing to do.

"Lets' go." He said, just as the clock hit eleven-thirty. He exited the warehouse they were in, the mercenaries and his two friends behind.

They walked, in the dead of the night to another part of the large complex of warehouses. They stopped as G.L held his fist closed.

"Eliminate the sentries." He ordered.

"I know." Replied Fragger, gesturing a couple of his soldiers to climb on the roof of a nearby warehouse to get a vantage point.

The men climbed up, spotted their targets and with deadly efficiency eliminated them one by one with the help of silenced sniper rifles and Night Vision Goggles. They climbed down, signaling the rest to advance. The group progressed in silence, with only the full moonlight and the weak artificial lighting to illuminate them. As they advanced, they met a few sentries that had been hidden from the spotters' view. They had expected it and the guards were eliminated without any problems.

Under the cover of the night, they finally arrived at the target warehouse. Lights could be seen inside. The mercenaries positioned themselves near the main door.

"Ready to breach." Announced Fragger.

G.L nodded. He opened his mouth just as the bell rang midnight.

"Breach."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Mike Brown put a hand over his mouth, hiding his yawn. He stretched his arms and began to examine for the umpteenth time his pistol. A Browning, dating back from the interwar. He looked below him. He was currently on a catwalk, above about fifty men unloading and loading various cargos. They wore prohibition suits, with the coats, hats, ties, and all that went with. They even had weapons from this era, mainly those drums fed Thompson.

The Chicago Specter may be one of the most successful crime syndicates of the Americas, but damn they were outdated. He had plans to step up the Specter game, new weapons, vehicles, and advanced equipment. He could only hope the Boss would accept the idea from the new Lieutenant he was.

His musing was cut short as the door exploded, flashb angs and smoke grenades exploded, blinding some and covering the entry. Everyone grabbed their guns, ready to kill. From the smoke emerged men in military clothing, unlike the gangsters, those looked like actual modern fighters with modern weapons and equipment. They were obviously well equipped, sporting M types carbines or MP submachine-gun. Many gangsters fell on the ground, a bullet in their headS or vitals.

Chaos broke loose as the Specter's men returned fire, wildly. Bullets pinged everywhere, killing one or two mercenaries as they rushed for cover. More grenades were thrown. And from the smoke came two monsters. Giant wolves were the first thought that went through Mike's head. But to his horror, he discovered that they were not just giant wolves but werewolves. They moved with savage grace through their enemies, tearing them apart in ribbons with their large claws and teeth. The red of their eyes matching those of their prey's blood. The gleam of their natural anomalous weapon as bright as a polished weapon.

Mike felt pure fear grip his guts. Fuck frikcity fuck. He began to run to an exit, however, he was spotted and bullet began to whiz and ping next to him. Ducking, he managed to dodge them all, his heart was pounding fast. He began himself to crack some shot at the attackers, in the vain hope of stopping them. This only got him more bullets. He dove behind a solid metal crate and sighed in relief. He then jumped out of it, rushing for the stairs.

Below, it was a slaughter. Thanks to the two werewolves the mercenaries had managed to advance deep into the criminal lines. It was, however, short-lived as they were not the only one with anomalous capacities. A group of men rushed forth. One of them was extremely tall and built; he shrugged off bullets as if they were nothing. He barely grunted when a frag grenade exploded near him. He engaged one of the werewolves in close quarters. Tackling him to the round, before being pushed back. A furious exchange of claws and fists began between the two, the fight was truly a sight to behold. Each attack was filled with savagery and blood-lust.

A second anomaly, an adolescent, though his self-was masked, extended his hand toward the mercenaries, his hands spitting deadly arcs of electricity. A mercenary fell on the ground, his flesh burning from the heat of the current. G.L came to meet the magician. His shaved head lighted up as a bright yellow tattoo picturing a sun appeared on his head. Linear tattoos appeared, going from the sun on his head to his hand, where a stylized sun appeared on each hand. Beams of pure, blinding light appeared, nearly striking the magical gangster, who dodged them.

Electricity and beams of light destroyed crates killed men and shattered the ground as the magical showdown gained in intensity. The two users sweating bullets, deadly magic dancing around them.

Other anomalies showed up from the gangsters' side. Mainly magicians and strength enhanced one, though they were lesser in strength. The initial momentum of the attack came to an abrupt halt as the gangsters finally organized themselves. The outnumbered mercenaries number began to dwindle, though for each fallen two gangsters were killed. The first werewolf managed to kill his strength enhanced opponent by beating a metal crate against his head. Meanwhile, the second was helping the mercenaries against the other anomalies, cutting some to ribbon.

G.L managed to push back his opponent, wounding him in the leg. The burning light sizzling his ankle, he cried out in a rather high pitch voice. Crawling to safety, he slid against a crate, breathing hard.

G.L was approached by Fragger who shot a grenade from his rifle attached launcher, killing two gangsters.

"We're gettin' slaughtered! Do your thing."

To confirm his words, a trio of mercenaries died, their bodies burnt. Meanwhile, the second werewolf was hit in the shoulder and began to bleed profusely, a sharp arrow of ice embedded in his member.

G.L did not hesitate, he reached for a pouch on his back, he took out something wrapped in a soft cover, it was lightly glowing purple. However, just as he did so, something unexpected happened.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Outside, a bandaged hand finished applying a thick black panel on a wall. The woman pulled some kind of pin, a LED on the panel glowed red. The woman got back, jumping behind a cover made of concrete.

"Ready." She whispered in her comm.

"Begin Operation Appeasement." Came another feminine voice.

The bandaged hand woman grinned, that was her favorite part. She grabbed a detonator and she pressed it yelled.

"Some really big fucking holes, coming right up!"

Just as she pressed the detonator, the inside of the panel opened. There mixed metal oxide, metal powder, and fuel. The mix burned at two thousand degrees Celsius or three thousand five hundred degrees Fahrenheit. The wall around the panel began to cut itself, melting, from top to down. And just as the cut was completed the charges detonated. Creating gaping holes in the walls. Showing the inside of a chaotic warehouse. There were nine holes in total, three on each side of the warehouse except for the front.

"Go! Go! Go!" Shouted the commander in the comms.

Black-clad troops swarmed the compound from every angle, taking the two sides by surprise. G.L backed away as his thoughts ran wild. GOC? Foundation? MC&D? Chicago Specter? Spetsgruppa P? The possibilities began to invade his mind as panic spread. He knew using the artifact now was useless. His legs turned to jelly as scenes of brutal capture and interrogation played in his head. However, all his panic was replaced by surprise and confusion as he heard the shouts.

"FBI! Hands up motherfuckers!" Yelled the second attackers.

And indeed their uniform indicated them as SWAT teams from the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Some agents were present cracking shots with their pistol. However, all also wore the patch of the Unusual Incidents Unit. But... weren't they supposed to be a joke? Playing investigators and collecting anomalous item which value was the same as dog shit? Yet, the havoc they were wrecking indicated otherwise. More ruthless and efficient than the mercenaries they began to force the two other parties to a desperate defense.

G.L weaved under the bullets, dodging with proficiency, destroying some bullets and sending beams of light to SWAT operators. All missed and the shots began to focus on him. He took cover behind a crate, just to see a werewolf get hit by a taser Shockwave. The dangerous contraption nearly crippling the powerful anomaly. It was, nonetheless, not enough as, despite many spasms, the beast tore through the five SWAT, swatting them in the air, but not killing them. However, G.L noticed something. A golden glow came from the crate he was next to. He removed the lid, using it was cover and his eyes widened, his face illuminated by a golden light. Wasting no time he took the source and threw it in his pouch. He began to run back to the closest werewolf, who had taken cover as well, despite his massive frame.

"We need to get out, tell Jordan to come, we gonna punch through the ones at the main entrance."

The werewolf grunted, before barking. The second werewolf turned around before breaking into a full sprint, screeching to a halt near the two.

"I'll hit them first then we go in the breach." Announced G.L as the Kendrick and Jordan nodded.

Getting past through yelling mercenaries, G.L finally came in view of the SWAT, who leveled their rifles at him. Ordering him to surrender. It was for naught as he screamed, light building up in his palm. The energy forming a large ball. He launched it toward the SWAT who had the good idea to get the fuck out of its way. The ball exploded in a show of blinding light and heat.

The trio rushed to the breach, taking advantage of the temporary blindness. G.L was carried by Kendrick, however, the young man screamed in pain as a bullet tore through his leg. He turned back to see the hateful expression of Fragger.

"Fucking traitor! Coward! Get back here!"

It was the last he saw from the captain as the trio took a turn, coming right in front of a SWAT barrage. They stopped, the soldiers at the barrage menacing them with their weapons. However, it was for naught as G.L took hold of the golden artifact, muttering a litany and suddenly they disappeared in a pillar of light, up in the sky.

Back in the warehouse, a woman entered the now secured building. SWAT and agents saluting her. She came to a stop before the row of prisoners, there were a small number of mercenaries and gangsters as well as the lightning magician and Mike, the lieutenant.

She observed them, before uttering.

"Get those two to the special cell." She said.

"And the others, Director Hoover?" Asked an agent.

Her only response was to draw a pistol and to execute, coldly one of the gangsters.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

In his office, The Administrator was happily humming, reviewing different files when an incoming call caught his attention. He read the name and smiled deviously. He pushed the answer button, but not before dusting himself and adjusting his bowler hat.

The figure appeared as a hologram and he smiled wickedly.

"Crowley! Good to see you!"

**A CERTAIN SCP**


	12. The Occult Wars and Enigmatic Scheme

[… DATA RETRIEVAL COMPLETED IN 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... DATA RETRIEVED]

Touma blinked, in the middle of the room was a green-blue bi-dimensional triangle, propped on an obsidian stone. Two chains met at the middle of the triangle where a parchment with strange red runes was inscribed upon it. It was rather small, not taller than thirty centimeters, its sides were of equal length. It rose in the air, and to his surprise, an eye opened. With a red pupil, the eye observed him and it spoke.

" **Out."** The thundering voice left no room for questioning. **"Forget."**

Any mortal, and maybe some immortals would have obeyed the order, out of unnatural compulsion or fright. However, not Touma. He already had put his hand on his head, knowing it would block any supernatural effects.

The thing visibly frowned and repeated the orders more forcefully. Finally, it understood it was of no use, the thing closed its eye.

"It's the end, isn't it? They finally managed to break through my spells and they sent you... Imagine Breaker.." It spoke this time with a human voice, saddened and resigned. "Well, what are you waiting for?" Asked the triangle.

"Ummmh, excuse me but who are you? And how do you know who I am?" Asked Touma, still keeping his right hand on his temple.

The thing huffed, eyes locked on the floor.

"Human, if you managed to break my spells then you must know who I am. You would not have done it without knowing. And you know how. I see what is inside you. Now stop playing games and do your bidding."

"Things is... I really don't know who you are. Sorry." Said Touma, apologetically.

"Twin stars! Stop mocking me, will you, I get enough of that!" Roared the thing. "How could you not know me? Me, the most powerful daemon in existence! With a name that even this upstart called God would have an aneurysm trying to spell it. I can accomplish anything I desire, I can reduce entire dimensions to ash with but a thought! AND YOU HAVE NOT HEARD OF ME?"

Touma stayed silent, before weakly laughing and scratching the back of his head. Of course, his luck made him meet things like that.

"Noo..?" He said, hesitating.

The thing looked at him, before sighing.

"I don't know whether I should be happy or not."

"I think you should be happy." Proposed Touma.

"I guess, that means nobody will try to use me, for now." Said the thing, floating in the air, slowly.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you here?" Asked Touma, to be honest, it was weird.

The daemon looked at him, floating next to him, coming to meet his eyes with his own. Before he looked away, rather... flustered?

"Well, you see... As powerful as I am, I am not omnipotent, and I must answer the summons. I did just that, you see that crazy guy, what's his name again? Really fucked up guy, and that's coming from me... A... Adam? No... A-a-a Adolf! Indeed, Adolf Hitler! Killed millions of believers to summon me in his little war! I was about to blast him from the face of the dimension when he sealed me! The little... asshole sealed me! Well, not to brag but I'm way too powerful to completely lose my power, but the little shit literally destroyed all my offensive power, my spells all gone! But bam! I use my last defense, I become nearly unthinkable, in the end, I helped those guys kill him... what's their name again... ah yes, the Coalition! Theeeen, I was taken by this Foundation. Well and now I'm here!" He explained, not taking his breath to stop.

"So, you got captured by Nazis and then the Foundation?" Said Touma, having a hard time believing it despite his daily exposure to supernatural things.

The up tip of the triangle bent forward, like someone bowing his head in shame.

"Yeah... not my proudest moment." Admitted the Daemon.

Touma stayed silent for a moment, the being still looking down in shame. Well, he was sent there to get information, might as well ask them.

"So, uh, what's your name."

The being looked up instantly.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Well, Bright, asked me to gather inform-" Touma took a step back as the thing dashed right in his face.

" **DON'T"**

Its color changed in a bright flash to magma red, its edges turning searing white. Its powerful booming voice, shaking the walls, nearly deafened Touma, who flinched and brought his arms forth in fear.

"Please... don't." Said the daemon, its color toning down to blue-green once more.

"Can I... know why?" Said Touma, hesitant.

The daemon looked at him, its pupil turning purple, before toning down to crystal blue.

"You seem to be honest... You... uphold what you humans call... morals... Very well. I shall tell you." The being made fingers appeared from its side and snapped them.

The environment changed around them, twisting, turning, color faded, changed as a veil of darkness fell. This veil was quickly replaced by a scene, which seemed to be more akin to a painting. It looked like an art from a sci-fi show. The black void of space surrounded them, with nearby suns and other celestial bodies. Around them were vast and gigantic pyramids, floating. They were made of black, reflecting marble-like stone. From their sides sprouted tall and slender spires, whose top shined in purple, like a lighthouse. Each spire must have been the size of a mountain, and the pyramids they were on seemed bigger than entire countries.

"Your home?" Asked Touma, bewildered.

"No, I just wanted a nice atmosphere, but it is indeed something I created recently, must have been a million years, or something like that. Anyway."

The being bore his eyes into Touma's.

"I am... your kind has no word for it, but I suppose you can call me a passive. I don't like killing, destroying, but neither do I like creating or birthing. I am neutral, to be honest, I only desire to observe every being in existence, see their struggle, see their emotions, see them grow, see them be get wiped away and claimed by the unstoppable entropy of life."

That was probably one of the strangest concepts Touma had ever heard. Everyone in the world had a motivation, but not that being, no, it seemed above it.

"And?" Asked Touma, not sure where this was getting.

"And since I'm very powerful many would seek to use me to do their bidding since I'm still in my summoned form, one can force me to obey. Imagine what kind of destruction I could bring? For if you tell Bright who I am, it will spread, and soon this entire site will become a war-zone, the world will be engulfed in fire. Millions or even billions will die, entire countries will be brought to ruin and mankind will never be the same afterward, as the Eight Occult War would spark, lighting the flame for the destruction of this world. Do you really wish for that, Kamijou Touma?"

"No... of course, no!" Shouted Touma. "But what are the Occult Wars?" He asked, not minding the being knowing his name, but wondering what those wars were and why there were so many.

"Let me show you, I'm sure after watching this, you will be even more eager to help me." And the being snapped his finger once more.

The scene faded a second time taking a brighter tone as loud sounds could be heard, and soon all around them was a stomach-churning scene. Thousands of soldiers were fighting in trenches as artillery shells rained from the sky, while bombs landed in groups of soldiers, sending their insides on their surroundings. The cracks of rifles and the thundering of howitzers as well as the explosions of bombs or planes filled the environment. By instinct Touma pressed his hand on his ear, by luck not touching his cranium, and nearly had a heart attack as a shell landed next to him, he was however untouched.

"Don't worry this is just an illusion. Oh! And don't touch your head." Explained the daemon.

Touma could recognize a battlefield of the First World War, he watched, bewildered as the land was torn apart by mankind's brutality. He saw soldiers, Germans, rise from their trench and charge, screaming wildly in the name of god and their Kaiser while from the other side, French and British, called god, for the British their queen and the French the name of their country. However what was surprising was a small group of people in dark trench coats and hoods, in the Entente's trench. They were calm compared to other soldiers. As the Germans finally arrived at guns range, the two sides began to exchange fire, shredding hundred to pieces. The men in coats finally moved and revealed their true selves, magicians, the mud turned traitorous against the German, holding them in place, bullets who would have missed hit their targets and less subtly, fire engulfed enemy soldiers while stone pikes impaled their comrades.

And from the German side came other magicians, themselves in gray coats and pointy helmets, lending their unnatural power to aid their countrymen, and soon the slaughter became even more savage as the Germans filled the trench. Bayonets, trench knives and fists were used, anger, hate, fear, and other untold emotions were channeled in the weapons as the slaughter carried on. Magic spells, curses, and hexes flew in the air as the magicians began battling against one another.

Touma fell on his knees, as he emptied his stomach, he had seen many things but that kind of violence was unique, terrifying and sickening. The fetid liquid stained his clothes as tears came to his eyes. While he was not physically there, he could still smell, the scent of gunpowder, the odor of the dead, the sickening aroma of rotten and rotting corpses. Despite the horror the fighting induced, he could not help but keep watching in pervert fascination. There a British was strangling a German, while a French corpse was being repeatedly stabbed by a German. The fact that most of the soldiers were young, some even Touma's age didn't escape him.

The scene faded once more, as the being showed him another scene, uncaring of his state. This time, it was inside a small room, present were a dozen Nazi officers, sporting peaked cap decorated with a double-headed eagle holding in its talons a pentagram. They were around a table, discussing plans, showing with their fingers different spots on a map, strange objects were also on the table. Guarding the rooms were several soldiers, all bearing the same insignia as the officers.

The hushed whispers of the Germans turned to shout and orders as bright purples circles appeared in the room. From them came soldiers, priests, monks, and other people, dressed in strange attire. Magic flew across the room as the Nazis and the Allied forces exchanged bullets and spells. Finally, after a short but rewarding battle, an Ally, a Soviet by the looks of it, began inspecting the room while other, Americans, British, Canadians, Norwegians and French searched for other things, gathering artifacts. They left, but not before setting fire to the entire room.

Touma was still shaken from the World War 1 battle and barely paid any attention to the event. However, he focused once more as the scenery morphed for the third time. The colors and sound twisting before showing a massive battle in a vast green plain. This time, the battle was much different than the two he had seen before.

There were two armies, one was composed of ranks upon ranks of organized soldiers, wearing iron plates armor and wielding red rectangular shield and spears. Other could be seen in lighter or different equipment, some were on horses, with purple colors. At the back were small ballista. At the head of the army, below fluttering red banners depicting an eagle or a bull or an olive crown was a man on a horse, upon his mature head was an olive crown, made of gold who shined unnaturally in the sunlight, he turned his horse to face the Legion of legionnaires and spoke. His voice was powerful, exuding confidence but without arrogance, the voice gave off a feeling of superiority while staying human, it was both abrasive but cautious. As he, Julius Caesar spoke, his men steeled themselves, responding with loud stomping, and banging their weapon together. As Caesar's speech ended, the men all shouted a powerful 'Ave Ceasar'. The Roman general and soon to be emperor, reared his horse and lifted his weapon, pointing it to the sky and at the enemies.

Said enemies were rough looking compared to their counterpart. A handful was sporting armor while other simply went for shirts pants or even, strangely clothe-less. The sides of the army were filled by horsemen and chariots. The dominating color was green with some red and blue highlights, boars and horses were present on the different banners amongst the horde. At the forefront of the army was another man in a chariot. He sported a large mane of dirty blond hair and was waving two axes, who were glowing light green. He also turned to face his soldiers, and just like his Roman counterpart talked his voice full of pride, and burning passion. The archaic words rolled off his tongue like thunder. And soon the Gaul army was screaming passionately, banging weapons together, responding to the roman steel cacophony. Raising his axes in the air, the Celt chieftain.

From each side of the army, priests, and druids passed in their army's ranks, blessing warriors and burning sacred plants. A shrill cry rang out in the sky as an eagle flew above the battlefield. It quickly dove and with swiftness and dexterity caught a goose between its talons, killing the animal. The Celts seemed afraid as one of their totem animals was killed by the symbol of Rome, the Empire's Legionnaires, welcoming the sight with cheers. Fear and panic grew as ravens flew above the Celt army.

But the Gaul chieftain, undeterred signaled for the charge, trumpets, and horns blew as the Celt army zeroed toward the Roman, who tightened their formations, Ceasar getting behind the line of legionnaires. The Celts were twice as numerous as the Romans but it didn't seem to deter them. The two armies met in a clash of steel and fury. The Roman superior tactics and weapons were tested against the Celts' sheer brutality and numbers. The druids and priests did not stand idle. Roots trapped feet, grass became as solid and piercing as steel, hawks, eagles, boars and other animals charged in the fray of battle, not backing down against human steel. From the Celts came berserks, naked, their eyes speaking of blood-lust wielding glowing axes or swords, uncaring for their safety, spears, and swords sometimes bounced off their skins.

The Romans for their part changed their lines, when an infantry line would fight for too long it would retreat and its place be assumed by a fresh line of soldiers. The wounded would be carried behind the lines and healed by the priests. Meanwhile, the chieftain had finally broken into Roman lines, targeting a line of light infantrymen he had rammed into them at full speed with his chariot. He was currently cutting left and right with his axes, before pointing them at Caesar and uttering a challenge. Caesar rolled his eyes and gestured to a man, covered head to toes in armor with purple highlights and pointed at the war chief. The man nodded and took a few heavy cavalrymen with him, charging at the Celts' chariots. The engagement was brutal, spears and chariots broke while horses died throwing, their masters on the ground, men were impaled or cut down.

Finally, Caesar's champion battled the chieftain, both on their feet, on the ground, amidst the chaos around them, his sword raised high he struck the Celt's head only to meet his axes. In a flurry of strikes, parry, counterattacks and feigns, showing a great deal of skill and talent. However the champion was finally knocked back, a deep wound going from his right shoulder to his left leg, blood spilled the already blood filled ground and grass.

Meanwhile, Caesar saw he was losing the battle, his great tactics and stratagems were countered by the infuriating savagery of the Celts, who showed a decent level of tactics of their own. Seeing that his losses would soon become unsustainable and seeing his soon to be dead champion, he raised his sword and prayed to the gods, his priests accompanying him. His olive crown shined like the sun and as he did the tide of battle turned, he addressed the soldiers, his voice booming without any comparison. The wounded got back up, the fighters became stronger, faster, smarter, their energy returning back. The champion himself got back up, his wounds closing back, and with unbridled fury and skills beheaded the war chief in one, swift strike.

Holding the chief's head high and screaming the word 'Roma Invictus' the Celts routed. Pressured by a now raging and fresh superior infantry, cycling charges of cavalrymen and mysterious and frightening supernatural forces and now leaderless, the gods seemed to have abandoned them as they fled for their lives.

Touma noticed the sun had set, while the battle had started in the morning, it seemed however that he was here for barely a minute. The scenes faded, and he stepped back, shocked, and fell on his bottom as the familiar gray walls of Site 19.

"What... was... that." He asked, barely able to form the words, as he was shaking.

"Those were the Occult Wars, the second, sixth and seventh. There are others of course, like this one." It said, a small image forming.

"No! No! I think I get the point." Said Touma.

"Sure, sure. Well as you can see the Occult Wars were several conflicts throughout human history who heavily implied the use of anomalous entities and organizations. Tens of millions died during those." Explained the entity.

"You could have told me that instead of showing me all of this!" Shouted Touma, throwing a dark glare at the entity.

"I guess, but it gets the point across better, doesn't it? Do you wish to see this happen once more to this world, even if it is not yours? I know you care. Even more so with the number of nuclear weapons now and don't get me talking on the magical super-weapons." It said, projecting on the wall the image of a nuclear bomb going off. "They are much much worse than that."

"I... I won't say anything." Agreed Touma.

"Good, as a repayment and because.. well it will get more interesting. Let me tell you two things." Began the daemon, catching the Imagine Breaker's intention. "First, you are like me, an object of envy, many will seek you, many will fight over you, many will die over you. Second is the fact that there exist beings more potent than me, like this young being named 'God', apparently created this dimension or something like that. TBH as you youngsters say, it's bullshit, I think. Or this... this.." The daemon stopped, seemingly shivering. "It is named the Crimson King, and he is probably the most powerful entity ever. He is however pure evil, I have to say that even I am frightened by him. You will maybe encounter his servants. Be cautious but, ultimately, what happens is of your resort and yours only. Now begone, I hunger to observe." Said the thing, putting itself back on his stone support, the eye closing.

Shaken, Touma clicked twice on the button, waiting for someone to extract him, the guards entered and took him. They observed 055 with interest, knowing they'll probably forget about it anyway. As Touma exited the room he was met by the concerned face of Mishimoto and the scientific staff, minus Bright and Adam, Bright was excited while Adam was emotionless as ever.

"You're ok-" The Asian psychologist could not finish her sentence as Bright shoved past her, gripping Touma's shoulders and shaking him frantically.

"SOOOOOOOO? HOW WAS IT?" He asked.

Opening his mouth like a gaping fish, Touma closed it before finally speaking.

"What? What are you talking about?" Lied Touma, playing clueless.

In a fit of slim success, he managed to fool all. But Bright still kept going.

"Cooome on!" He whined. "Use your hand." He said, pouting and doing puppy eyes. The thing actually turned against him, making appear more as a psychopath (which he was) than a cute little thing.

Still obliging the mad doctor, Touma obeyed, placing his hand on his head. He faked deep concentration and spoke, meeting Bright's sparkling eyes.

"It's like a rock, its like round but... also square." Said Touma.

"Dammit, we always get the same answer on... on... what were we talking about? Oh, well anyway, no matter time to get back to your chamber."

And as he entered his chamber, Touma fell on his bed. He was tired but what he had seen, heard and felt during this short session would not let him sleep tonight and for who knows how long.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Crowley! Good to see you!" Greeted The Administrator, plastering a jovial smile on his face.

Before him stood the Superintendent General of Academy City, his face cold and devoid of any humanity, the pale green eyes could have been mistaken for those of a corpse if the man hadn't spoken.

"It is also my pleasure to speak to you Administrator." Answered Crowley.

"So what brings you here? What do you want with little ol' me?" Asked the Foundation's leader.

"I will be straightforward. The Imagine Breaker, I want it back." Demanded Crowley.

Silence fell, before, naturally The Administrator laughed.

"Wait, wait, wait, you have lost your Imagine Breaker? Hahahahahohoho. No really? no way! How?"

"He stumbled upon a multi-dimensional transportation device who, according to my investigation, lead him to this world." Explained Crowley. "Have you retrieved him?"

"I'm afraid no, old chap." Lied The Administrator.

"Really, it also seems to appear that a group of dimension travelers arrived dimension, not long ago. Surely you would have registered it."

"We did, and we are currently investigating." He answered.

"Administrator..." Began Crowley, slowly. "I am tired of your lies. Admit it, you have the Imagine Breaker." And without letting his interlocutor the time to speak he showed him a digital version of Touma's file, censored, however.

The Administrator stayed silent, as he looked at Crowley, his eyes as cold as the floating man.

"And, what do you make of it?" Said the head of the Foundation.

"I would wish you to return the Imagine Breaker as well as the group originating from my dimension." Demanded the Superintendent.

"No can do, no can do. Firstly, I still need him and even if I did not, he is, one, still out of your reach and secondly, we both have no way to open dimensional rift between each other."

"I am sure you have a way, with how many artifacts you have. And anyway I can come in your dimension, do not forget what I can d-"

"Oh, don't give me that! We both know you can't do anything here, I made sure of that, I made sure your kind stopped interfering, and I'm not the only one to protect my dimension like that! And no, I do not currently posses my dimensionial wall cutting knife or another artifact like that."

They both stayed silent.

"And I do not know where your goddamn group is." Added The Administrator.

"I see... I will be most thankful if you manage to locate them and send them back to me. If you could also send me back the Imagine Breaker, I will surely repay you in kind. And do not confuse them if you would, here are their identity." Stated Academy City's leader, sending a file to the other man.

"I will see what I can do, farewell." Said The Administrator, cutting the conversation short.

"Farewell." And with those last words, the connection was cut, leaving The Administrator alone, in his large office.

He stayed silent, before typing on his keyboard, he opened a file showing the identity of the strayed Academy Citizens, on his monitor. He hummed as he reviewed their files, Misaka Mikoto, Tsuchimikado Motoharu, Accelerator etc... Very interesting he thought, he knew that all were equally dangerous together and even on their own. Particularly the espers. His interest was piqued when he saw the file of Othinus, a wide grin split his face. Well, that was interesting. He hadn't seen a Magic God since a long, long time... Since, well... He turned his eyes toward a large wardrobe, he took a step and then another and another until he was near the furniture. He opened it and took a purple cloth, from it fell a gladius, he bent over and took it, feeling _something_ course through him as he did.

_The temple was about to crumble. A young man wearing plates was crushed below a stone, another was taken by, an enormous pincer. A hand reached forward and he pushed himself up. The other hand took the gladius, the familiar warmth coursed through him. Finally getting back up on his feet, he stumbled around before an unseen force pushed him back a second time, he laid there sprawled on the ground when he saw it emerge from the shadows. It was tall, it was not human, it had the head of a crocodile, it had the body of a human in a sick_ _and_ _twisted way. It spoke._

_"_ _How_ _dare_ _you_ _?_ _How dare you_ _, come here after so many warnings, so many_ _deaths?_ _I have_ _tolerated_ _for now_ _your foolishness and stubbornness Altus Caeleste Consiliarus. But now my patience is at its end. Now die." Stated the_ _thing_ _pointing at him as a flood of crocodiles and water was directed toward him._

_Surprisingly, he smiled, and soon the flood stopped, the crocodiles stopped, retreating deep in the temple. The Magic God fell to its knees crying in pain._

" _No! I have adapted! No! WhYYYyyyYY?" The God's pained cry tore through the temple as the young man stood up, dusting his armor._

" _You see, we humans always find a way to stop your kind, we always do." He said._

" _Do not mock me, you are as human as me." Growled the thing._

_"Point of view, a simple point of view, but I do think I'm more human than a crocodile head moron. You see you walked right into that." He said, twirling his gladius and pointing at the entry, where a huge machine, the size of a building, was. It was white and streamlined, futuristic by all standards._

" _Those are SRA, or Scranton Reality Anchors, and guess what, they cancel your powers, good for us. It was really, really, really, hard to get them, time is not a kind mistress in any way. So now I will make you talk." He said, putting his gladius on the being's throat._

The Administrator shook his head, he had work to do. He put back the gear in the cloth and closed the door, returning to his desk and computer. There he opened another file, this one of a CCTV footage in Japan, in a snowy forest. There could be seen a group of eleven people, all filling Crowley's file. However it seemed that there were tensions in the group, one also seemed to be out of service while the magicians were as planned, unable to do anything. He smiled wickedly and sent an encrypted email.

_Get them. Any mean. Civilian casualties acceptable. Clone casualties acceptable. Try for a peaceful solution first. Protocol -IB.2 initiated._

The email was sent. The Administrator knew his orders would be carried with efficiency, he knew they knew what to do. Finally, he reached for a file on his desk, speaking of the Imagine Breaker. It was time. He sent one more email.

_Begin Operation Orpheus-Z._

**A CERTAIN SCP**

They slipped their suits, while the city slept. The black and gray blended with the surroundings. They climbed the wall, they opened the automatic blinds, they opened the window, they slipped into the room, making barely any sound.

"Can you use the cameras?"

"Yeah, let me... just... do... that."

He took out his phone, and on the screen, the room they were in could be seen. However, they, were not recorded by the camera and only a desert and dark room was shown.

"Deactivating camo."

The air rippled around them, and slowly, the camera feed showed their form.

"It's been a long time, since we did that, damn."

"C'mon that was barely six months ago Ed."

"Yeah, yeah Matt." Said Edward.

"Search for the wife, quick." Said Matthew.

However they both froze as a clicking sound was heard behind them, light flooded the room. They slowly turned only to face a young girl, not even ten years old. She was wearing pink pajamas with a cheery unicorn on it. She rubbed her eyes in fatigue and asked, with the sweet innocence of kids.

"Are you Santa Clauses?" She asked. "I thought there was just one. And you only came at Christmas." Her tone grew more and more excited. "Mama gotta see this!" She then pouted. "But she's not here. She always comes back late, like papa." However, she soon brightened up. "But she'll be here soon. I got up just to see her tonight, oh she's gonna be so surprised to see you."

She then took a step back, scrutinizing the two agents, still petrified.

"You're dressed all weird." She laughed. "I thought Santas wore red."

They were indeed dressed strangely. A tight fitting black and gray suit covered them head to toe, their eyes were covered by a one-way glass and their knees, elbow, and groin by thin armor plates.

Edward soon reacted and spoke.

"Uhhhh we're Santas... and well... we came with a late gift for you and your mother. When does she get back home?" He asked, telling by hand signal to Matthew to shut up.

"In like, five minutes, I'll tell her you're here."

"Oh no! It's a surprise, we'll stay here, go to your mother and tell her there's a surprise for her here, alright?"

The girl quickly nodded and scooted to the door, but not before asking a final question.

"Why do you give us a gift?"

"To apologize, you'll see later." Said Edward, looking down.

As the girl left, Matthew, furiously but discreetly spoke.

"What the hell! What are you doing?" Seethed his friend.

"Don't worry, let me just turn off the light."

With a simple touch on his phone, the light turned off, their suit's night vision goggles still allowing them to see like it was day.

A car parked. From it, came a woman, her hair a mess and dark bags forming under her eyes. It was the weekend at least, she consoled herself. And she had that really cute video between Zero and 999, she knew it was forbidden, but damn it was too cute! Something to distract her from the _things_ kept there, she was sure her husband would like the video too. Too bad she could not show it to her daughter. She could not get her mixed up with those things! That was why she sheltered her so much.

Slowly, she opened the door, careful not to wake her daughter. Alas, it seemed it was useless as the little minx was waiting for her. Her daughter, Diana, jumped to her waist, circling it with her little arms while shouting 'Mama'. Abigail fought back a smile, she was touched by her daughter's actions but it was far far too late for her to be up. She was about to scold her child when she scampered off.

"Mama! Mama! Come with me!"

Abigail raised her eyebrow, what could be so exciting for her little treasure? Smiling, she followed Diana, curious. She arrived at the dark living room, and then she noticed it, the opened window. She was about to scream but it was too late. The light turned on a gloved hand fell on her mouth, another seized her waist and arms. Diana was treated the same, tears started falling from her eyes. Abigail managed to get a good look at their aggressors. Dressed in dark tight suits, their baleful visor bore into her terrified soul and then all she saw was black when something hit the back of her head.

…

Cold. Wet. She opened her eyes, fluttering and sending panicked glances across the room. Darkly lit, with only a flickering lamp to illuminate her face, she realized her arms were cuffed by iron bounds to an iron chair, her mouth was gagged and she felt a dull ache to the back of her head. From the shadows emerged one of the aggressors, his visor reflecting her terrified face, and it was not pretty to see. He bent, grazing her cheeks, not with his hand, but with a bloodied knife. He said nothing as he slowly passed over her cheekbones, before reaching her eye. A sharp voice stopped him.

"M, stop!" Ordered a second one, stepping out of the shadow. "We wouldn't want to ruin such a pretty face would we."

Without saying a word, M retreated back in the shadows, but she could feel him. Gently, a hand came and removed her gag. She coughed, spitting up the accumulated saliva and felt a handkerchief wipe away the liquid.

"Hello, I'm E. I'm very sorry to kidnap you like that, but, do you know anything about the SCP Foundation?" E asked.

Abigail knew better than to say yes and lied, but her initial reaction, widening eyes and fear let her interrogator know the truth.

"You do indeed know about them. Researcher? Don't answer, your face says it all. Eh, didn't put much effort in counter-interrogation?"

E, bent near her face, whispering with a honeyed voice.

"We are only looking for a simple, little, information. Do you anything about SCP-0000? You do... Hehehe. Where is it? What does it look like?" Asked E.

Gulping, Abigail tried to appear confident in front of the interrogator.

"Never seen him, just heard rumors. That's all."

Sighing, E called his partner.

"M!"

Another light was turned on, showing her daughter, restricted as she was, M behind her, his black knife in his hand. Abigail thrashed against her bonds and screamed wildly, demanding her daughter to be released. A slap shut her up.

"You know there are fates worse than death. Tell us what you know about it." He circled around her, like a shark. "And we will let you free. You and your daughter."

Abigail's head sank. She had a choice, she knew if she told them it could result in many deaths. But on the other hand... she met her child's eyes. Scared, begging to be saved. Her eyes traveled upward, only to meet the unflinching all black visor of M.

"I will tell you. But I can't tell you entirely. I have a gag order. I can bypass it through indirect info. Take my phone, and open the videos. The password is 070509."

Taking her phone, E scrolled through it and found the video of Touma and 999.

"So this is SCP-0000. And where is he located?"

"... I can't tell you that. It's direct intel. The gag order is stopping me."

"Very well, is it Site 01? Answer yes for all the following questions."

"Yes."

"Site 02"

Yes.

"Site 03?"

This kept going until, finally.

"Site 19?"

"..."

Behind his mask, Edward smiled.

"Site 19. It will be tough, but I'm sure we can do it." He said, talking to Matthew who acknowledged by nodding.

"You know where it is located"

"No, I sw-"

"I believe you, this info would be too much for simple research personnel. Thank you for answering our questions."

"Are you to free my daughter and me?" She asked, hopeful.

"Of course." Said E, releasing her bounds by pressing a button.

"Exit that way, we'll just give you an amnestic before." Said E as M released Diana, who ran to her mother, burying herself in her arms. Comforting the child in her embrace, Abigail let Diana cry in her bosom, rubbing her back and whispering sweet things to her. M and E led them to a door which they opened and entered a room, she followed them. She entered another darkly lit room, and when the room was illuminated she screamed. Rows of skeleton lined the wall and caked blood decorated the walls. But all of this, her fear, her love, her dreams and the crushing feeling of realization all ended, like her life. The bullet shredded her brain, quickly ending her. Diana wailed louder as her mother fell, on the ground lifeless, dropping her. She went to her mother's corpse, shaking the bleeding body, wishing and begging her to rise again. The barrel of a pistol was brought forth, aiming at her frightened face.

"Sorry, you got roped into this."

The trigger was pulled and one more future was taken away, one more candle was snuffed. Edward and Matthew left the room, burning bodies behind. Darkness took its due once more.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

A man was rushing through a small town, taking cover behind a bus, he shot down an enemy, his bullet striking true. He then exited his cover, entered a house and climbed the stairs, there he noticed the last enemy below the balcony. He jumped from it and twisting in mid-air, he did a full turn before shooting the last opponent in the head, without even aiming.

" **Spetznaz win."** Announced the game's voice.

Leaning back in her chair, L.S took a sip from a soda can and laughed as many enemy players accused him of cheating.

 _Git gud noobs_. Replied the Head Librarian.

He exited the game and got up from his chair, taking his staff with her. He walked in the tortuous alley of the Library, enjoying the sight of wanderers. Some were reading from the infinitely tall bookshelves, who could be accessed by hovering platforms, others were simply chatting, relaxing or doing activities impossible to mankind.

Suddenly, L.S disappeared in a show of smoke, she had sensed something. He arrived at a small room, where two battered werewolves and a wounded G.L were present.

"What the hell! G.L, man, what happened to you! Kendrick, Jordan? It's you?" L.S asked, frantically.

Without saying anything, G.L handed him the two glowing stones.

"Twin stars! Tell me what happened first!"

"Attacked the Specter, uurrgh, UIU came, blasted everyone... huff... got shot... managed to teleport... got the stone." Said G.L through gritted teeth.

"Damn, let's heal you." She said, tapping her staff against his leg, the wound regenerating quickly. "I'll let the two of you change." Said L.S to the werewolves, who nodded and entered an adjacent, room.

L.S watched G.L as his eyes fluttered and he fell asleep, his wound healed. Furious, L.S turned his eyes up.

"You really had to write that!" She accused.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Snow crunched under Misaka Mikoto's feet, she felt it melt and dampen her feet. Her breath let a small mist escape from her mouth. Her clothes, not adapted for such a cold setting, did not protect her from the freezing atmosphere.

"Do you want to pause? I'll make a fire." She shouted to her comrades.

Othinus was on her shoulder, unable to float on her spear, weirdly enough she seemed to have gotten slightly bigger. Behind, Styil and Kanzaki were trailing in the snow, Kanzaki shivering due to her outfit, while Styil seemed to resist the cold better. In the middle, Tsuchimikado had closed his shirt, his confident air, all but vanished, at the end of the column were two Sisters, supporting the once mighty Accelerator and, closing the march were the three last Sisters, holding their rifles to the ready.

"No need to, we need to keep going!" Replied Kanzaki, despite shivering.

Misaka nodded and they continued to delve in the forest, as the shadows grew more and more present, the noise of the forest, as rare as they were during winter completely stopped, only the falling snow and the crunching of boots could be heard.

"Something's not right." Said Tsuchimikado, the blond spy phrasing the group's thought.

They stopped, forming a tight cluster, ready to face what could happen. A rustle was heard, and from it came people. They were a dozen, dressed in long white coats, with white gas masks connected to a tank on their back. They seemed to carry no weapon, but the group could not help but feel distrust. Another man came from the woods, this one in a full white suit, with a red tie. His face was uncovered, letting see dark hair brushed back with a red streak on the side, on his shouldr was a scarlet dragonfly, his expression was peaceful and trustful, but the group knew better.

"Greeting, I am LeRouge, may we talk?"

**A CERTAIN SCP**


	13. Chaos at Happy Acres

The moon barely lighted the way, it barely lighted the small group of hazmat suit-wearing people and the large truck behind them. It barely lighted the small gathering of small tents. It barely lighted the surprised expression of a woman as she was knocked out by one the suit-wearing men. The moon barely lighted them as they approached the tents, It barely lighted frightened children being pulled from the large interiors of their tents. The panicked sounds they made tore through the silence of the night but were brutally muted by their attackers.

Rounded up and under the threats of guns, the adults accompanying the children tried to calm them. But one made a mistake, a man rose up, his rage coloured face barely lighted as he loudly complained and threatened the aggressors. Without saying a word, he was roughly grabbed by one of said aggressors, his protests fell short as he entered the truck, a cry of pain was heard then, the silence.

Childrens and adults stopped all noise as a low growling was heard. And quickly each was brought to the truck. Cries of pain and fear could be heard. When the last of them had suffered the same treatment, they left, hiding their trails under the dim moonlight.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Monika was fuming in her room, it had been days, days since she was confined in her room, and could only go out for lunch and dinner as well as training and some meeting but she could not leave her room. And every time she did Orion was escorting her with a guard or two. Hadn't it been enough? Had she not shown her loyalty throughout the years? Had she not shown her skill throughout all those missions? Had she not showed her dedication?

She bit her lip, she knew she could escape. Right here, right now. There were no guards outside. Orion wanted the fewer amount possible of people to know, and he only chose guards he could fully trust to escort her, and even then it was not always the case. But escaping would only prove Orion right, and his response would be draconian. She sighed and ran her hand through her locks. She was internally screaming.

But above all those emotions, one was shadowing the others. It was longing. She longed for two things. The first was the outside world. The loud but colourful streets of Los Angeles, the cold but refreshing water of the sea and the dry soft sand were on her mind. She wanted to get back up there and feel and see all of those. Normal life was so much better than this. She could not understand why normal people wanted to live an extraordinary life. It was awfully stressful and restrictive. Some fantasize about being spies or secret agents, but, Monika would much more prefer to just live a normal life, work, pay taxes, find someone... A normal life.

With this train of thought, she came to her second longing. A longing for friendship and companionship. Being raised amongst the cutthroat world of the paranormal world, especially the Insurgency's Special Agent Program, it was all cloak and dagger, smokes and mirrors. She had come to appreciate some of the soldiers she stayed with, Team Cinereous was a good example, but she knew they would soon split up and never see each other again. It was how it was meant to be. The only person she frequented for a long time, as far as she could remember was actually Orion. Orion... He had always been there, she knew he was not her father, despite how much she had wanted it to be true when she was young. Her real parents...

_The man in black shot. A head was pierced. The man fell. A woman shrieked but stopped as a bullet struck her, this time in the heart. Sobs obscured her vision. The man turned toward her. He aimed at her and his badge, a circle with arrows, shone in the night. A third shot rang out and the man in black fell. Behind him was another one. This one was dressed even darker than his victim. And she sobbed as the black mask neared her, and she kept sobbing when strong arms lifted her and carried her._

Monika broke out of her trance and narrowed her eyes. Reminiscence? That was bad... She needed to get those out. Things like that could strike in the most dangerous moment. A normal life... Touma had one like that before, she knew he studied in a prestigious city for scholars. A normal life without any unnatural stuff, eh, must have been peaceful. It was most intriguing how he found himself in contact with an inter-dimensional transportation device... Bad luck probably. Her time in the base only made her wish for his company, which was light-hearted and pleasing. She was sure he would be assigned to Orion's unit, and hers indirectly, if he was to become an Insurgent.

Truth had to be revealed! The Foundation's leash on him had to be cut! Justice had to be delivered! Yes, it was the only way. If she could not convince Touma then the only way was to destroy what held him at the Foundation. One of the first people to get rid off would be that blond hag. She remembered their interaction. The nerve of the old bitch!

The door opened and she broke out of her vengeful thoughts. She swivelled her head toward it and multiple possibilities crossed her mind, could it be Orion? Could it be a guard? Could it be an intruder? Her hand went to the back of her pant, where she kept a knife. To her surprise, from the door came the Lieutenant. He was dressed in his usual manner, a black combat wears with helmet, bulletproof vest and padding as well as his gas mask. However, the mask's filters were slightly loosened, allowing half of his lower face to be seen.

She narrowed her eyes. She didn't like him, he was weird and not in the harmless sense. He could be unruly and exhibited violent compulsory behaviour. The Lieutenant may have been the person who stayed the longest under Orion's command, excluding her. He always sported his gas mask, never letting anyone see the upper half of his face. Even hidden by the dark lenses, she could not help but feel discomfort when his gaze settled on her. This little aura of dread never left him. At least Orion could still hold him in a leash, but if it would last forever was the true question.

But right now, was not the time to think about such matters. She relaxed her position, though still keeping her hand over her knife.

"What do you want?" She asked, not polite in the slightest. They both had no need for such trivial things.

"I just wanted to see if the rumours were true." He said, the side of his lip slightly twitching up but keeping his voice neutral.

"Rumours? What rumours?" She asked, genuinely surprised.

"That you are confined to your room by Orion."

Her face betrayed her for barely a second, surprise etched on her face,

"So it's true." He stated, his voice flat but the slight grin betrayed his true emotion.

"What about it?" She asked, her voice on edge.

"It means you have done something to jeopardize this mission."

She frowned, so the low life wanted a fight? He was in for a treat.

"I have contributed to this mission more than you. Without me, we would still be trying to take some meaningless artefact at 06-3. L-"

He mirthlessly chuckled, or at least tried, for it sounded like a twisted parody of human chuckle.

"That's not the problem, little miss perfect."

Monika stepped back when he drew closer and she let out a small noise when her back hit the wall. The Lieutenant came close to her ear and whispered.

"It means you have betrayed his trust. You are not worthy." He said, wickedly, before retreating

"Worthy of what?"

"Of being at his side." He said, and this time, his voice was bitter. "Watch your back, someone can replace you _very_ soon."

Before she could shut him up, he slammed the door, leaving her alone. She gulped, He had hit home, he was right.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

_He was observing the hospital from far away, in the safety of a large hotel. His face was nearly pressed against the window. He waited, and waited, fiddling with the glass in his hand, the feeling of guilt growing and growing with time. He was about to concede and call it off when he heard the noise, now he knew it was too late. The roar of supersonic engines rang in his ear before an explosion blew apart the hospital. A single tear rolled on his cheek._

" _You did the right thing." Said a voice coldly, next to him._

_As the radio fell silent, he crushed the glass with his hand, sending the liquid and splinters everywhere, the shards digging in his skin._

Tired eyes opened, only to be met with the usual darkness of his room. Orion rubbed his eyes and his face, trying to ease without any results the phantom pain. He got up, his nap hadn't helped him at all. He sat at his desk, slipping on his mask, turning on his computer and thus began to toil on the paperwork needed to maintain such an operation. He was about to start writing a report on the daily situation when a notification interrupted him. He opened the Insurgency's Intranet, revealing the Alpha level Channel, he entered his password and looked at the fatal memetic hazard, which he was protected from and opened the message.

_Require video audio meeting ASAP._

He groaned, taking his head in his hand. The Alpha Group wanted to speak to him. Well, he had no choice. He clicked on the conference call button of the channel and waited as three members of the twenty other members, finally connected. Their actual feed was not shown, instead, the windows showed their name.

"Good, we are all here." Said a smooth female voice, the name Hera shining brighter.

However, Orion frowned when he realized that his face, while masked, was shown on the feed. And despite his mask, his thought was decrypted by Hera and other members of the Group.

"Don't be like that, you are still new to the Group." said a male voice called Áres.

Orion tightened his fist, how dared they, it had been a decade since he was inducted in the Alpha Group and another decade since he was recruited by the Insurgency!

Apparently, another member had seen through his mask and saw his anger, this one was called Hermes.

"While we do recognize you as a full member of this group, you are not one of the Twenty-First Insurgents. Your status is most peculiar, and you agreed to this."

Orion was not appeased by those words, he had proven his loyalty! He had proven his skills! He had given everything! This was unfair and insulting, shouldn't his handwork grant him full recognition? He had toiled more than any of them!

But, he had to keep it in, they were the only ones he could turn to. He was too far in to go back, and even if he did go back, where or to who he would go? So, he calmed his anger, extinguishing the rebellious flame, for now.

Apparently satisfied of his submission, the Alpha Group showed their motives.

"As you know, SCP-0000 is from another dimension." Stated Hera.

Orion nodded, not sure where this was going.

"It would seem we have other extra-dimensional visitors but we are not a hundred percent sure of this, furthermore they are from Zero's dimension."

This was met by silence from Orion's side. What? More from this foreign world? Did they have powers? Could they erase anomaly like Zero? Were they reality benders? Thaumaturgists? Dei-. His musing was cut short by Hermes.

"We currently do not know any of their capacities, but they are apparently powerful."

"Like Zero?" He asked. If they could act fast, they could take them before the Foundation put them in heavy containment.

"No, we can assure you this." Said Áres.

"How? Do we know their capacities or not?" Inquired the masked man.

"... We cannot tell you." Stated Hera. "This shouldn't have been brought up." She said Orion was sure she was sending a dark glare toward Áres, despite her lack of physical presence.

But, once more that was outraging! How dared they! He was supposed to be their equal, and know as much as the group did. But, he had to contain his anger, getting angry or asking wouldn't lead to anything. He exhaled deeply but discreetly and ignored the slight.

"What do we make of it, do we intervene?"

Hera seemed pleased by his behaviour and answered.

"We would like to, however, they already seem to be in Foundation custody. We would like you to ask informations about those persons and his dimension to Zero when you have him. Thus leading us to the second reason for our call. How is the operation going?"

"At a slow pace for now. We are still trying to locate Site-19, we are in the right region, but its exact location stays unknown. Our base, however, is well established, morale is satisfying and we do not have any problem with our equipment or personnel." Stated Orion. "Though, additional agents could help us locate the anomaly quicker." He added.

"We cannot allocate more agents to you, we are already stretched thin. You will have to keep working with what you have." Countered Áres.

"Understood." Said Orion, resigning himself.

"This will be all, you are dismissed." Announced Hera to Orion, who dipped his head in acknowledgement.

He was about to disconnect, like the others when the voice of Hera rang again.

"Oh, and a last thing, Orion." She said, slowly.

Orion froze, he had no idea what she was about to say, but his guts told him it would be bad.

"I'm all ears."

"It is about agents." She stated.

Orion's guts began to churn.

"Your personal agent."

Behind his mask, Orion's brow furrowed and his face turned into an animal snarl.

"Don't you dare-"

The sharp voice of Hera cut him in the middle of his sentence.

"I dare to do what I want, Orion, remember that. Fume as you want, I am in control here." She said, emphasizing the I. "Your agent, Monika Engel, it's maybe time to let her go, we need agents on other fronts. I heard you don't even use her lately."

The masked man's eyes nearly bulged out of his socket. How could they know that? His nail dug themselves in his palm as he tightened his fists in balls.

"You can't-" He protested once more.

"Yes, I can. Have you forgotten your place, Orion? It seems you have been too complacent lately, you are not our equal, you will never be like us. If I want to send your little toy away, I can. If I want your entire operation to crumble, I can. If I want you to spend the rest of your day rotting in a cell, I can. Remember your place."

"She is not my toy!" Spat Orion, his anger barely controlled.

"Then, if she is not your pawn, she is an emotional burden you can ill afford."

Orion said nothing before his head dipped forward and his eyes met the ground.

"Please... Don't... Don't take her away."He muttered, defeated.

The smugness could be heard in Hera's voice.

"I won't, this is just a reminder of what we can do. Never, never think you can be our equal like you did." She ordered, before leaving the video-conference.

Fists still tight, Orion slammed them on his desk, leaving cracks. Sounds of dripping liquid could be heard as blood ran from his palms, his nails had cut them, even piercing the thin gloves. He sighed loudly, cursing the Alpha Group.

However, he had no time to lament, he exited his room, but not before bandaging his hands and slipping on a new pair of gloves. He had two objectives, first was to reassign Monika to a mission. It was time to lift her punishment anyway, a couple of days of isolation were enough, reassigning her to a mission would probably make Hera stop breathing down his neck.

Second, he needed to find the mole. He could not have his men report to Hera or the rest of the Alpha Group for that matter. Because, while his men were loyal to the Insurgency, their ultimate loyalty lied with him, or should lie with him, this problem needed to be dealt with.

He nodded and saluted his subordinates while he stalked the halls of the base, careful not to be aggressive with them, despite his anger, they weren't at fault. Some smiles wormed their way up their faces, genuine ones. This already bettered his mood. Unlike the other Alphas, his subordinates genuinely respected him and did not kiss his ass just to climb the ladder. The Alphas, of course, had utmost loyal agents and operators, but they were few.

He finally arrived at Monika's room and watched, curious, the Lieutenant walk off the room, he did not notice him. What was the boy doing here? No matter, he would ask Monika and him later.

He knocked softly on the door.

"Y-yes, enter." Came the choked voice of his protégée, though it got normal at the end.

He opened the door and entered the room, his eyes met Monika's slightly red. He frowned.

"Are you alright?" He asked, not sure what was going on.

"Of course, what brings you here... sir?" She asked, saluting.

This made Orion lightly chuckle.

"No need for such formalities, it's only the two of us." He told Monika, who lowered her stance and relaxed "I think your punishment has gone for long enough, it's time for you to do something else." He announced her, and he was satisfied when her large blue eyes widened in happiness.

"Am I assigned to a mission?" She asked.

"Yes, indeed, you will be on the field, and will be investigating any lead on Site-19." He announced.

Monika couldn't believe her ears. She had been locked up in there for days for going out and now she was to investigate in the city, by her own. Was that hypocrisy? Yes, it was she thought. However, she did not voice that out loud.

"You will have to obey standard Agents procedures with daily check-in, you will be granted your own operation base, a room in one of our hotel." He stated.

She nodded, nothing out of the ordinary. But, Orion was not done.

"Oh, and I wanted to ask, what was the Lieutenant doing in here with you?" He asked, curious.

"Nothing, really nothing." She said quickly.

"Really, are you sure?"

"Of course, I mean, we just discussed, well hmm, you know, the operation." She lied.

He arched an eyebrow. The Lieutenant and Monika talking about the operation, those two weren't really amiable to each other so that could mean only one thing... They were finally getting along! Finally!

"Ah, good, I am satisfied you begin to get along." He told her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, hmm, yes, of course." She lied.

"Well, I will leave you to your preparation, be ready for tomorrow at eight hundred, I'll give you your mission."

"Of course." She acknowledged. "And, hmm, Orion?" She asked.

"Yes?"

"Am I... still your agent?" She asked, meekly but stressing the yours.

"Well, of course." Replied Orion, without missing a heartbeat. "Nobody else could do it, except you."

She hid her smile and spoke.

"I'll get prepared, see you later."

"Of course."

He exited the room, wondering why Monika had asked such a thing, wasn't it evident? Little did he know that she was currently celebrating the decision with a silent and mental firework.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Grant was helping one of the kid on the horse's back, well not a horse, he reminded himself. As the kid finally managed to put his feet in the stirrup, he backed down and admired the creature for the thousandth time. Before he stood a magnificent creature, its snow-white fur seemed to glisten like diamonds in the sunny morning while its long mane shone with the colours of the rainbow. But it's single most fascinating feature was the horn, standing proudly on its head, whiter and purer than ivory, with an unnatural but soothing glow emanating from it.

Even after months of work, Grant could still not believe he was tending to unicorns. Unicorns! The majestic creature reared back its head and rubbed it on the kid's hand, a sign of acceptance. Grant patted the unicorn lightly, with reverence and was about to tell the kids some instruction when the little human decided to pull on the unicorn's horn. Grant's instinct kicked in, ready to catch the kid should the unicorn rear back. However, the unicorn stood motionlessly and only shook its head lightly. Grant sighed and shook his head. Those kids. In addition to being careless, they were filthy rich brats, or rather had filthy rich parents. His co-worker, Sheila, came to replace him, it was break time.

He left the Hippodrome, full of mounted unicorns went to the woods to check on some of the bird feeders. The tall evergreens, swayed lightly and birds sang, Grant was about to take a look at the first bird feeder when he noticed something on the corner of his eye. It was a kid, he did not look well, torn clothes, cuts, pale face, and a limp walk.

Grant rushed to the kid, forgetting everything about the feeders. He was about to ask a question when the kid fell on the ground, face first. Grant screeched to a halt, next to the child and flipped him on his back. He took a look at his face. The kid was obviously unconscious, his breathing was hatched. Seeing no other thing to do, he slung the kid on his back, and with a grunt, walked as fast as possible toward the infirmary.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Are you sure?" Asked a woman, on the phone.

"Yes, goddammit. I'm pretty damn sure that kid is infected by some kind of... weird thing, never seen anything like that." Came the yelling voice of a man over the phone.

"Very well, we will deploy a Task Force as agreed upon. Goodbye."

"Be quick."

The woman hung up, before dialing a series of keys on her computer. The words 'Request sent', soon followed by 'Request granted MTF Beta-5 is being deployed.' lit her face.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Men in bright yellow hazmat suit entered a room, violently opening the door. They ran to a hospital bed where a young boy was, panting. The nurses and the doctor were pushed away and removed from the room, but not before being thoroughly checked by another hazmat-clad man.

A woman, bent over to analyze the boy, she took out her flashlight, opened his eyelid and lighted his eyes. She then gestured to two of her co-workers, who promptly removed the boy's clothes and she started inspecting his body.

She touched black spots on his skin and mumbled something before she took a syringe and injected its content in the boy's vein. As the liquid spread, the subject fell asleep and she took out a scalpel, dipped it in antibacterial and with care, removed a part of the skin with black spots and put it in a vacuum sealed container. She left but not before applying bandages to the wounded part.

She stepped through a transportable decontamination chamber and strode with determination to a mobile laboratory. With sterilized pincer, she took the blackened skin and put it into a machine. Soon, the results were shown.

"Goddammit."

**Match found: Sample correspond to SCP-008-II's chemical formation at 95%.**

She removed the hazmat suit, went to her computer and called for the only thing that would help, reinforcement.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Go!Go!Go!" Yelled the sergeant, hastening the troops.

Trucks and Humvees unloaded a small stream of soldiers, on the ground of a large camp, with a mansion nearby. The troop of soldiers consisted of about fifty armed personnel. captain Reza Spaulding, Commander of MTF Beta-7 'Babysitters' was greeted by a tall, young man in business suit, who, despite his best manners could not hide the stress and worry he was experiencing.

"Hello, I am Jason Wood, the director of this vacation camp, I presume you are the team sent by the Foundation." Said the young man, extending his hand.

"Yeah, I'm commander Spaulding, now where was your problem?" Asked Spaulding while shaking the director's hand.

"Apparently, a group of our residents was attacked in the woods of this hill." Gestured Jason, pointing to a tree covered hill at the East. "There were twelve children and three adults, I think we might have lost another group. Which would make thirty children and six adults in total."

The captain nodded, calmly. Well, either way they were probably a lost cause but, he had to try anyway.

"Understood, I'll launch research now." He said, before looking around him. "Where are your other residents?"

"They are all in the mansion. They are being watched by security guards." He explained.

"Weren't there security guards with the groups?" Asked Reza, arching a brow.

"... The parents of our resident were not comfortable with their children being watched over by armed security when we said that the complex was safe." Said Jason, looking away in guilt.

"I see. Shame. I will launch the research, now. I advise you not to interfere." Instructed Reza, and Jason understood it was not an advice but an order.

Without waiting for an answer, the captain turned away and walked toward his men, waiting for him in ranks.

"At ease! Team 1 and 2 spread out and search the east of the perimeter, keep a loose formation. Team 2 and 4, you search the west of the perimeter, loose formation. Team 5, search the buildings and give sniper cover." He ordered and was answered by the salute and affirmative.

As his men dispersed and went to their objectives on the double. He analyzed the rest of the vacation camp.

"Fucking bourgeois." He muttered, before going to his mobile command center.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Why are we here?" Asked Touma, for the third time, his two earlier attempts were met with silence.

"We are here for training maneuvers." Announced Bright, finally answering.

"Search and rescue in a forest."

"But why here? We must have crossed the entire country."

"Pretty much. But we're here because there is already a training facility here, and we can't just train in any random forest."

"Is that, the training facility?" He asked, pointing the small prefabricated building and a little guard post of two persons. He expected more after all he saw from the Foundation.

"Yup! It's training in the forest after all!"

Touma sighed while Bright walked forward to greet the two guards who saluted without much energy. He presented them his card and the authorization to use the training grounds, to which the guards answered with raised brows.

"You really came to train here?" Asked the first guard. "I mean, umm, nobody been using it for about three years now, we about to close shop in a week or two."

"Yeah, I mean, we opened a brand new forest training centers this year." Seconded the other guard.

"Don't worry, don't worry about that, we have our reasons." Said Bright.

The two guards looked at each other before shrugging and stamping Bright's papers.

"Welcome to training site F-4, sir. Tell us if you need anything." Said the guard, giving Bright his paper back and opening the door of the building.

Bright gestured for the rest of Team Gamma and Beta to follow him, as he stepped inside the building. The inside was, like the rest of the Foundation's infrastructure, bland, with gray walls and plastic items of furniture. The team walked in silence in the building, led by Bright who brought them to a conference room.

As the team sat at the table, Bright booted a computer and plugged in a USB key, a projection appeared on the board behind him, blank for now.

"Attention, everyone." Bright spoke, catching everyone's attention."I will explain today's exercises..." Touma stopped listening, instead preferring to look at the assembled team, unlike him, they were actually listening to what Bright was saying.

He was softly nudged by Ansa, who just noticed he wasn't paying attention, and he begrudgingly began to listen.

"... And we will be accompanied by Mobile Task Force Lambda-2 or at least a part of it."

"Lambda-2 sir? What do they do?" Asked Wanda, next to Touma.

"Oh, I think they'll explain this better than I." Said Bright as the door opened.

In there walked a chubby ginger-haired man sporting a wide-brimmed hat and a taller raven-haired woman with shades.

"'Sup, everybody, I'm Dr. Clef, the commanding officer of Lambda-2 and this is Adams, the grunt." He introduced themselves, pointing at Adams who glared at him. "Bright, buddy, it's been a long time." Said Clef. dashing to Bright. "Oh, and Sophia, how are you?"

"Good, Clef, how about you, and... Adams, is it?" She asked.

"Yes, I'm Senior Agent Andrea Adams, ma'am."

Light hummed in agreement and smiled politely.

"Dr. Sophia Light, commanding officer of MTF Alpha-9, a pleasure to meet you." She said, shaking Adams' hand. "No need to call me ma'am. Oh, and this is Dr. Bright, Team Gamma leader and vice commander of MTF Alpha-9."

"So... SCP-105 and SCP-0000?" Asked Clef, pointing at Touma and Iris who nodded. Both a bit irritated by the usage of their serial number.

"Excuse me but haven't we met before?" Asked Touma and Wanda at the same time.

"I don't think so..." Said Clef, trailing off before regaining his composure. "And you." He turned to Wanda. "Are the squad leader, Sergeant Carter. A pleasure to meet you." He extended his hand, which Wanda shook with hesitation.

As the newcomers greeted everybody, Touma could not help but feel uneasy, it seemed that Adams and Clef were watching him, even when they were looking or talking to other people. He even caught Adams' suspicion filled eyes, just for a second, before she turned her head to talk to Adam.

"Don't worry." He turned his head to see Ansa looking at him, her face blank. "They probably don't work with skips a lot, they are used to fight them."

"You're probably right."

She gave him a very tiny smile.

"I'm sure they'll learn to trust you. Personally, I'm excited to work with them."

"Uh?"

"Oh, you probably don't know, but Dr. Clef is known throughout the Foundation, particularly the armed forces, he is a legend."

"What did he do?"

"Well, according to numerous rumors he single-handedly defeated entire GOC STRIKE teams, reality benders and other kinds of skips. He has one of the highest, if not the highest kill count of the Foundation. Total bad-ass can cross entire dimensions without problems, can beat demons and vampire like it's a walk in the park. He even has a revolver that fires nukes or something like that."

While Touma had no idea what were "Jihosee" strike teams, he was pretty sure it was lethal. He could hardly believe this chubby little man did anything remotely like that, but appearances could be deceiving, like with Index or Misaka.

"And do you know Adams?" He asked, curious about this woman.

"Yeah, a bit, heard she was fresh blood, like me, but rising in the ranks, unlike me, some says she is the new Clef, I heard she did a number on rival agents and took down a massive enemy operation. Maybe I can have some info on her with my accreditation." She told him.

He nodded, leaning back in his chair as he watched Bright, Clef, and Light leave the room while discussing quietly of something serious. They closed the doors behind them, to be sure to be out of ear range.

They entered back after a few seconds, their faces very serious. Light coughed to catch everyone's attention.

"We have received a new development." She began. "The maneuvers are canceled." This gave Touma a bit of hope. "Instead, we are going on a mission." And there went his hope of getting a day off.

"What is our mission?" Asked Wanda.

"Search and Rescue, but it may evolve into Search and Destroy. Let me show you." She said, producing a phone out of her pocket. "The Commission sent me this file." She said, as she plugged it in the computer, she then replaced Bright's projection with her own.

It showed an aerial view of a large wooded area, with some clearing and hills as well as some infrastructures made of wood.

"This is happy Acres Youth Camp, a summer camp for children located in the region, it is currently opened."

"Excuse me, but a summer camp in the middle of the winter?" Asked Luan.

"I'm getting to it, the camp's existence is kept secret from most of the public. Why? Well, because it is anomalous. The Youth Camp is run by Marshall, Carter, and Dark." She said, changing to another image, depicting the letters MC&D with a barely opened door behind the &, with below the words 'NYC, London, Hong Kong', all on a royal purple background.

"For those who do not know, Marshall Carter and Dark is a gentleman club, and one of the richest organization in the world, their main trade is the creation, acquisition, or auction or the loan of multiple anomalous entities for diverse purposes, mainly recreational. We have a fluctuating relationship with them, we are either enemies or rival allies of convenience or both. However, this Youth Camp is part of the Research for Defense Agreement. This treaty stipulates that should Happy Acres be attacked by anomalous forces then the SCP Foundation would send a Mobile Task Force to secure any of the residents and preserve as much of the infrastructures, against which we can take and study or interrogate freely any anomaly or human response or part of the attack." Explained Light.

"We are to be deployed there? Isn't there any more able MTFs for such a mission?" Asked Adams.

"There is, MTF Beta-7 is already deployed at on site, however." She said, cutting anyone before they might ask why. "They have requested reinforcement, and we are the only ones able to answer, and maybe the best for this situation. We have received code Palisade Broken Menagerie." The blank look on everyone's face, except Adams, prompted an explanation. "This code means that SCP-008 has broken out of containment and has now infected multiple persons."

A collective response of silence and confusion was met by the statement.

"Grossly, we got zombies running amok."

A collective 'oooh' was heard.

" _Paska!_ We got zombies!? I never knew about that." Said Ansa.

"As you should, the existence of this SCP classified at security level 4." Said Bright.

"Ok, wow, what's going to happen to us afterward? Brainwashing?" Asked a worried McKenzie.

"It is to be seen." Said Clef. "But we do not rule out the possibility of using amnestics."

The announcement did bring down the spirits of the team, but this thought was soon dispelled by Light's next slide. It depicted a half rotting corpse being restrained by iron shackles and chains. Its face, or rather what remained of it was twisted in a feral snarl and two men with assault weapons could be seen on the side. Ready to kill the beast, as it could in no way be human.

"What is this...?" Asked Touma, his stomach churning.

"SCP-008-II, it is an instance of SCP-008. A human can be transformed in this should he be in contact with SCP-008 or exchange any bodily fluid of with SCP-008, or any kind of physical contact will be infected in a twenty-four hour period."

"So, real zombie. Never thought I'd live to see some zombies, eh, even less kill'em." Said McKenzie.

"That's pretty epic." Commented Wanda.

"Finally a good mission. Hostage rescue ain't our specialty." Added Jordan.

Iris was meeker and actually wondered what kind of numbers they would be facing if she had learned one thing from horror movies, it was that underestimating zombies was a mistake.

"Uhmm." She raised her hand, catching Light's attention. "How many... hostiles can we expect."

"Good question, we're estimating between thirty and fifty. Shouldn't be more."

She nodded, well that should be enough if there was another MTF. After all, what was the worse that could happen?

**A CERTAIN SCP**

A violent riot shield bash put the zombie flat on its back, promptly followed by an armored boot which crushed its head. The death-rattle of the anomaly soon ended as the skull cracked open, followed by the thorough flattening of the rotting brain inside.

"Zulu down. Continuing search and destroy. 1-2 out."

Reza Spaulding sipped his steaming coffee, his eyes carefully examining each video feed transmitted by the soldiers on the field. It had been a few hours since the beginning of operation Camp Granada.

His eyes were drawn to the monitor of squad 3, an adult man could be seen walking, laboriously, he had obvious signs of infection.

"Contact, potential Zulu. Orders sir?" Asked the sergeant.

"Terminate." Said Reza.

A single bullet pierced the man's cranium, and he fell on the ground, barely making a sound.

"Zulu down. Continuing as ordered. 2-1 out."

As of now, Mobile Task Force Beta-7 had eliminated two SCP-008, referred to as Zulu, and three future Zulu. Spaulding frowned. Where were the rest? He looked at the map and moved one of the white flags, symbolizing his unit's advance. They were closing into the location of the campsite. In fact, team three should arrive in three... two... one.

"This is Team three, reporting for orders. We have arrived at objective A."

"Search the campsite, terminate any hostile, report any unusual findings." Ordered Reza, solely focusing his green eyes on team three's monitor.

"Roger that, sir. Move it you lot!"

The camera shook as the team advanced stealthily towards the campsite, careful not to alert any zombie, should some be present. They arrived at a clearing where a dozen tents were ripped open, with marks of struggle visible.

"Clear! Search for anyone, lads."

The tents were searched, but the soldiers came back empty-handed.

"Look like there was a fight, sir. The Zs pulled them out of their tents."

"Pulled them out of their tents? That's... weird."

"Maybe it's easier to eat them out in the open?" Proposed a soldier, half joking.

"Yeah, Zs love picnicking." Joked another.

Spaulding did not share his men's dark humor and was, instead, already, trying to understand what had happened. It was indeed strange for such feral specimen to drag people out instead of eating them on the moment. This comportment was... too much... human.

He was broken out of his reverie by squad five.

"Contact sir! Reporting twenty unknown, walking down the road." Reported the sniper. "twelve males, and eight females, pre-teens and teens. Orders?"

"Terminate." Ordered Reza,

Okay, twenty less, their numbers were thinning out. The voice of the sniper alerted him once more.

"Uuuuuh, Houston? We got a problem."

"Explain."

"We got like a hundred hostile closing in and its climbing! Orders?"

Reza was shocked for a few moments. What the... How the... heaven did that happen? That was too much. Way too much, but he could not let himself be drowned in panic.

He switched on the _All_ channel.

"All troops are ordered to get back at FOB Granada. Immediate retreat. Abandon all objectives. Terminate any hostile, if isolated. Godspeed."

A chorus of "Roger, Roger" was heard and the four teams started to move back to the base. Reza turned his head to his communication officer.

"Stefánsson, reinforcement's ETA?"

"An hour or so, captain."

Reza tapped his feet and slid his finger's along with his black polished mustache, thoughtful, and calm. Though he was concerned about the development of this operation. He could only hope the reinforcement would come in handy.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

The van was driving on a tortuous mountain road. The sudden turn and twist were starting to lull Touma into an uneasy sleep. The van suddenly stopped, sending him straight into Ansa who yelled in surprise. He began to curse his luck, expecting an unjustified and violent response, as he was accustomed to. But he was surprised by a light-hearted chuckle.

He lifted his head and met Ansa's laughing face, and he was quite struck by its beauty. The curbs of her lips drew graceful lines that the best artist could not reproduce, her black mirthful eyes, drilled into his, while her laugh warmed his cheek. Her self, for a heartbeat, exuded a divine-like light to Touma's eyes.

"EVERYONE OUT!" Came Bright's voice, as he violently opened the door. "Let's get moving people! GO! GO! GO!"

Everyone got up, Touma first, his face a bit flushed.

"Are you okay?" He asked Ansa, a bit awkwardly.

"Oh yeah, 'course. I'm not made of sugar." She laughed it off. "Well, how you feeling about killing some zombies?"

"..." Touma stayed silent.

"Are you alright?" She asked, her face returning to a more neutral stance.

"Just... I mean, can't they be cured? Can't we save them instead of butchering them?"

Ansa looked at him like he had grown a second head.

"Well... Sorry to break it to you but... no. They're gone... I mean it's a mercy." Said Ansa, solemnly.

But Touma wasn't having it, the killing had started to weigh on his conscience. Ever since he was here it had been dying left and right, slaughter and batt-.

He was shaken from his musing by Ansa, who pulled on his arm.

"Hey, don't go philosophizing. Hey, you don't like this, neither do I. But I'll tell you that. We're going to be heroes, save the kids and avenge the dead." She slung her arm across his back, making him blush from the proximity. "Come one, let's go bash some undead,"

He was not entirely convinced but... she was probably right. It was like Karim, better dead than alive. What he was doing... It was just giving a happy ending. His steps became assured and his eyes steely.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Glad to have you here, ma'am." Said Spaulding. "Captain Spaulding, chief of operation, I'll be giving you command of this operation now."

"Of course. Status of the operation?" Asked Light.

"Permission to speak my mind?"

"Yeeees...?" Hesitated Light.

"We're in deep shit."

"Oh... Explain." Ordered Light, beginning to feel a bit bad.

"We got about 300 Zs and more at the gates."

"Excuse me, did you just say three hundred?" Asked Bright, an incredulous look on his face, he wasn't the only one.

"I wish I was joking, doctor. But, sadly, I am not."

"That... wasn't planned..." Said Light, looking at Light.

She said nothing, the gears in her mind, already turning.

"We can't retreat." Said Reza. "Our contract forbids it. It would severely hurt the relationship between the Foundation and MC&D."

"I never said we would retreat captain. I'm quite sure we can still win this."

"What plan do you propose?" Asked Spaulding.

"Well, first..." She turned, seeking four specific people, and sped off, leaving Spaulding and Bright alone.

"So... Wassup?" Asked Bright, followed by Reza's sigh.

Light was running to the entry of the camp, there were Clef and Adams, both discussing with sneers on their face, their argument was probably venomous as all members of Alpha-7 stayed away from them. Iris was nearby, a lot more interested in the different plants that were around, rather bored.

Coughing loudly, she interrupted the heated conversation, which seemed to revolve about what kind of logo their MTF should have.

"You two, you come with me." Ordered Light.

"'Kay, but first can you back me up o-..." Clef did not finish his sentence as Light glared at him.

"Don't involve me in your childish debate. Now, follow!" Sternly, she pulled on Clef's arm forcefully and sped off for to her next target, Adams following with a satisfied grin.

Then, it was Iris' turn to be taken by Light. It was quick and short as Iris was actually just waiting for something to happen.

Light finally saw her last query, Touma. He was currently talking with Ansa. They seemed to be wondering about something and Touma was waving his hand in the air.

"Hey, you two." Greeted Light, friendlier than she was with Bright.

"Oh, uh, doc. Something flashed when T-Zero walked here," Explained Aho.

"You know what it is? Looks like my Imagine Breaker canceled something" Asked Touma.

Light paused thinking, what could it actually be? Maybe something to spy on or to hide... Now that she thought about it, it was probably the magical stealth field of the camp, which kept them hidden from the normal population.

"Oh, don't worry it is just their stealth field. They can fix it easily, The area is pretty deserted so I doubt there will actually be anyone coming here." Said Light. "Now! Kamijou! Follow me!" She ordered before taking off, Touma, Bright and Adams behind him.

She finally got back to Spaulding and Bright, who were locked in an awkward silence.

"Those." She announced, catching Reza's attention. "Are the pillars of my strategy. Dr. Alto Clef, Senior Agent Adams and Mr. Kamijou aka SCP-Zero. This is captain Spaulding, head of MTF Beta-7."

"Greeting." Said Reza, shaking the three newcomer's handS who replied in kind. And while Reza was curious about Touma, his military mindset stopped him from questioning about him. "Now." He turned back to Light. "If you wish to tell me your plan."

"Of course, but first, let's go in your command center."

Spaulding nodded and lead them to the mobile command center, its cramped space uncomfortable for so many people since there also was the communication officers, technician, and other support personnel.

"Basically." Began Light. "We are not enough to repel the full force of the zombie wave. So we'll have to be aggressive."

"Guerilla tactics?" Asked Spaulding.

"Yes, we will split into small groups and we'll chip away at the zombies while they're disorganized by the woods, in open terrain they will be able to assemble in one huge mass. As soon as a group is soon to be overrun they are to retreat and put a safe distance between them and the Eight's."

"But what if a group is surrounded and cut off? They'll be slaughtered."

Normally, they should be able to break through a small number of zombies. And if they are not able to do that, well MTF Lambda-2 comes in. Agent Adams will be able to deliver fast heavy support"

"How so?" Asked Spaulding, raising an eyebrow.

"She is in possession of a... power armor if one can call this an armor. She is basically a human tank."

"Very interesting, and... SCP-Zero and Dr. Clef if I may know of their utility."

"Well, I've got some experience fighting the walking dead, kid."

Spaulding's brow twitched slightly but he kept his cool air and turned his head to Touma.

"Uuuh, I, uuuh, erase things..." Said Touma, feeling awkward in such a military atmosphere.

"Yes, Zero is able to erase by touch anything supernatural, we do not know how this will work on Zombies but we might as well try." She explained.

Reza nodded, understanding Touma's importance, and tacitly the need to protect him, that actually was superior to the success of this operation, or the survival of his men and him.

"Very well, where do you think we should dispatch our troops?"

"Well, here and here seems good, we could also..."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Twigs cracked under Touma's feet as he moved into the forest. He slipped on some wet leaves and nearly fell but was caught by Ansa, who helped him get his balance back.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

The march continued. They were five to march through the woods. Ansa, McKenzie, Luan, and him. However, the three others were spread out so much, it could have just been the two of them. The woods were calm, with only the noise of walking to disturb the peaceful setting. It was also out of season, as the trees looked like in the middle of autumn with dresses of copper. And sometimes, a leaf or two would fall to the ground, softly and gracefully. Meanwhile, a small question passed through Touma's head.

"Hey, Ansa?" He said, continuing after she acknowledged his words. "Why are you with us? Shouldn't you be sniping?" He asked.

"Well, say it if you don't like me being here."

He panicked, she had misunderstood. Fuck, how was he going to justify that? He opened his mouth to explain himself, but Ansa beat him, a small smile on her lips.

"Hey, I'm joking."

He looked surprised, he really did not expect that.

"Hey, what's with that face? I can joke."

"Oh, sorry, you just... uhmmm. " He began to sweat as he realized he was just digging his own tomb.

"Yeah, I know, I don't look like the funny type, well I'm not. Not without people, I can't trust."

That perked up Touma.

"You... trust me?" he asked, not believing.

She turned her head upward.

"Yeah... You seem just like... a really cool guy, a _ystävä_ , a friend."

He blushed a bit. She had an effect on him, and he didn't know whether he liked that or not.

"But to answer your question, I'm here because I'm not only a sniper." She tapped her shoulder patch, especially the bear trap on it. "I'm also a trapper, I'll be booby trapping this zone and beind us. I don't have a clear line of sight, and the only one is taken by that sniper from Beta-7."

"Oh okay, I see,"

"Oh look we've arrived."

They were in a small clearing, which looked as normal as a clearing could.

"Time to prepare for Day-Z."

Touma could only hope he would survive this.

**A CERTAIN SCP**


	14. Operation Camp Granada

The wind blew over the forest, gently, it was a light breeze. The silence of the forest was only broken by the rustles of its orange leaves. Touma inhaled, exhaled and thought back to the briefing.

_"All right ladies." Began Bright, waving a stick around. "The plan is simple. You will be split into small groups, the woods will keep the zombies in small packs or isolated, use this advantage to take care of them. If you feel you are going to be overwhelmed, retreat to a secondary position, rinse and repeat until you are in the main camp. Should your position be overrun and you_ _,_ _are_ _in need of support_ _,_ _call Adams with your satellite phones. Finally, SCP-105 will be keeping an eye out on you and will save you, should you need it. Questions?"_

_Nobody spoke, signalling it was all clear._

_"Great. Now the First team is Deacon, Mi-"_

Touma also remembered his team's special order.

_"Team Six." Called Light. "You have a secondary mission." She looked at Touma."It concerns primarily you. Try to keep a zombie... alive, you know what I mean, restrain it. Mr Kamijou, I will ask you to touch this zombie. We want to know if you can cancel the virus."_

" _What if I_ _can't_ _? Am I going to be infected? Asked Touma, which worries could be easily understood._

_Light shook her head._

" _No, you need to_ _exchange_ _fluids with them to be infected, touching them will not infect you. However." She reached into her pocket and produced a vial of liquid. "Take this,_ _it's_ _an extremely potent antibacterial, and wash your hands each time you touch one. Don't put your fingers in your mouth before cleaning them, that's how you get infected."_

_Touma nodded, well he wasn't dumb enough to do that but he still thanked her, acknowledged her orders and began to go with his team to their assigned post._

He turned his head to Ansa, who was laying her last booby trap, it was crude and visible but against such brainless foe, it would be enough. The ropes were connected to a small cylinder which was filled with buckshot and gunpowder. The cylinder was aimed upward, where the head would be since only a severe head wound could kill those creatures

He himself had a weapon. He took out from his hip holster a pistol, nine millimetres, he had been told. The pistol was nothing out of the ordinary, grey in colour and comfortable to take in hand. He had shot a few times with this weapon just before departure, and once again he proved his lack of skill in this area despite the pistol's low recoil and high accuracy.

His teammates, Ansa, McKenzie and Luan were equipped with submachine guns, possessing a low rate of fire but better accuracy and higher calibre.

Touma sighed and passed his fingers through his black spiky hair. He perked up when he heard some shot cracks in the distance, looked like the zombies had already made contact.

"Oi, I got one coming." Shouted Luan, as the throes, a twisted parody of human sound, of the undead creature could be heard.

"Shoot him in the kneecaps, we're going to do the test." Said McKenzie, the team leader.

"Copy that, engaging." Confirmed Luan.

One second later two shots could be heard and the sound of a body falling to the ground followed.

"Come on." Said McKenzie. "Watch the traps."

Touma nodded and followed them, carefully stepping over the traps, not particularly wanting his head to be blown away. They finally arrived at the living corpse which was still trying to eat them despite only being able to crawl pathetically on the ground.

Touma winced at the sight, its body was of an adult female and lacked parts of flesh exposing some organs to the sun. Luckily as it was winter, it wasn't rotting. But, despite the lack of rot, the stench of death was thick in the air, as such the zombie was not only a severe eyes sore but also a noses'. The once woman's skin was covered by big black spots and her teeth had grown out and looked more like wolves'.

Anyway, McKenzie pressed his armoured boot against the creature's neck, stopping it from biting while Luan took care of his arm and Ansa watched over them, ready to put a bullet through the head of any creature coming.

"Come on, touch it, we don't have all day." Said Luan, he seemed to be struggling to hold the zombie's arms which were more powerful than an average human.

"Yeah."

Touma kneeled near the corpse and put, hesitantly its hand on its torso, which revealed a bit of flesh. The sound of breaking glass resonated through the forest. Touma looked at the corpse. While it was still ripped open in some parts, the black spots had completely disappeared and her teeth were now normal, human-like. But the most important part was the death of the said creature, which had now become a woman's corpse.

Touma backed away, checking his hand, which was actually pristine but he still applied some of the antibacterial solutions, just to be sure.

"You got that on tape, doc?" Asked McKenzie.

" _Yes, continue to defend."_ Came Light's voice.

"Understood, withdrawing to DZ." He said, before addressing his team. "Move out, let's get back to the Defence Zone."

Everyone nodded, and made their way back, careful of the traps. But even at that point, Touma's lack of luck made him nearly cost his life as a falling branch activated the booby traps Touma was stepping over. He yelped and backed away as the buckshot's burrowed themselves in the tree, instead of his head if he hadn't moved back in time.

He sighed in relief as Ansa rushed to him, asking him if he was okay. He replied with a small smile and an okay sign. She sighed and smiled a bit at him, which for some reason made him happy. The moment was short lived as McKenzie's voice came.

"Hostile approaching."

"Understood, take positions." Ordered McKenzie. "Try to shoot them in the distance, but don't waste your bullets if you can't hit them, let them walk in the traps."

Everyone uttered an affirmation before taking a position, ready to shoot. Touma was sweating a bit, worried about not touching a target. He was, also, still trying to sort out this moral dilemma. Was 'killing' those zombies a mercy or not? Were they actually alive? Could they be saved? Could... could... could he not kill them? He gripped his pistol tightly, whitening his knuckles.

Then, he saw it, a corpse, walking slowly toward him. The thing moaned, sending blood in all directions as he stalked slowly in a menacing manner toward the hesitating young boy. From Touma's side, shots already rang out, neutralizing their targets with deadly accuracy.

Touma close his eyes, he had to do this. It was for the good all. He opened his eyes, aimed at the thing's head and squeezed the trigger. The hammer hit the bullet, igniting it, fire erupted from the barrel, followed by a bullet which flew, and flew before finally... missing. Touma gritted his teeth.

He took aim once more, squeezed the trigger and a bullet flew out of the barrel, missing once again the thing's head. Shaking his head, Touma aimed once more, fired and this time the bullet hit the thing, but in its torso.

Touma was about to aim once more before a hand landed on his back.

"Remember, position yourself, inhale, keep it in and shoot." Whispered Ansa.

He nodded, he crouched slightly, shifted a bit his arm, inhaled deeply and aimed. The sights were lined perfectly with the thing's head. A shot rang out, soon followed by the fall of its target.

Touma exhaled loudly, he had done it. He had actually managed to ki-... neutralize one of the creatures.

He turned to Ansa, who gave him a timid thumbs up. That gave him back a bit of courage. They both returned to their occupation, as the zombies became more and more present.

" _Team Six, be warned, most Zombies are converging toward you. Be ready to withdraw._ "Came Spaulding's voice.

"Understood." Answered McKenzie.

Touma sighed, fukou da. He aimed at a new target, missing one shot. Then a second, a third, a fourth and soon there were more and more zombies. The booby traps began to blow up, 'killing' dozens of walking corpses. However, as the sun kept descending in the sky, it soon became clear that the position was undefendable.

"Withdraw to the second DZ, go! Go! Go!"

They began to move back, retreating to another clearing. Leaving behind them nothing but explosive trip wires. They ran to the second zone, but once again Touma was unlucky whether it was for everyday life, shooting and this time, tripwire. It would seem that the trees hated Touma as a branch fell on a trip wire, once more, the one that Touma was jumping over.

The broken wire triggered an explosion which projected buckshot's, not in Touma's head but in his thigh. He cried in pain as he fell on the ground, he tried to get up but fell back. Unluckily for him, the zombies this time seemed more determined, meaning they were half running and already one was nearing.

Luckily for him, he was mowed down by Ansa, the others behind him too. She said nothing as she neared him and slung his arm across her back. He accepted the help and muttered thanks, walking only with his unharmed leg, the left one. They were covered by their two other teammates.

The Finnish woman herself was not above shooting 8s in the head while carrying Touma and soon, they were to safety.

"I'm going to take care of his wound." Announced Ansa. "Cover us."

"Affirmative." he switched to the radio channel. _"SCP-0000 is wounded to the leg, not infected, Specialist Aho is taking care of its wound."_

He repeated that a few times before grumbling.

"Radio communication have problems. Be ready to call Adams if things go south."

Ansa laid Touma on the ground, putting his back on the trunk of the tree. She kneeled next to him, worry apparent in her beautiful black eyes, something that did not escape Touma. He tried to smile weakly, but the curve of his lips downed in an ugly pained rictus.

"Do you feel your leg?" She asked.

"I think so." Joked Touma, despite the pain.

"It's not the time for a joke." Said Ansa, calmly.

She took some suture material from a pouch, a tweezer, a wither, two syringes and an antibacterial solution.

"This is going to hurt at first." She said, preparing the first syringe while applying a disinfectant on his wound.

Touma only nodded. He focused on Ansa. Once again, he was drowned by her. Strange he thought, it never had happened to him, never had he felt like that for someone. Her scent, one of pure and virgin forests was mixing with the forest's own aroma. Ansa applied the wither on his upper thigh and showed the needle of the syringe.

"I'm going to inject it, here bite on this if you want." She presented a piece of leather, which he declined.

He gritted his teeth and hissed as the needle pierced his skin, and the liquid began to curse through his veins, the pain was not overwhelming, as it was actually overshadowed by the buckshot wound, but needle and injection pain was cold and unpleasant. He sighed as he felt a part of his thigh go slack, the pain disappearing completely.

"You'll be over soon?" He asked.

Ansa then began to remove the buckshot, first spacing the wound with a surgical spacer.

"No pain?" She asked, a bit late.

Touma shook his head and she nodded, relieved. She wiped her brow, careful not to taint her clean hands, purified by the antibacterial liquid before continuing the operation. That kind of knowledge was required for a specialist like her, a survivalist. The problem was, she had never done it herself on a real person. But waiting for Jenner, the medic to come, especially with communications cut, could have dire consequences and she'd rather act quickly.

She focused on the wound, determined to save Touma. She inserted the tweezer and began the search. She had to save him, he didn't deserve this. Her tweezers dug in the already opened wound, splitting a bit of flesh, barely glued together. He did not deserve this, he was a nice guy. The tweezers approached the buckshot, she knew it. He was nice, he was funny, he was heartwarming. The tweezers finally hit something solid and metal like. He was heartwarming, he was unique. She clasped the tweezer around the cursed buckshot and pulled back. He was unique, she was no one interesting. The tweezer met some resistance, and she tried to navigate carefully, not wanting to risk anything vital. She was no one interesting, a boring tomboy Finnish. She pulled, it was soon going to be over. A boring tomboy Finnish, who had attracted the attention of a certain Japanese boy. She pulled the buckshot from the wound and showed it triumphally to Touma, who gave a thumbs up, making her heart flutter. A Finnish tomboy which had fallen in love

She put the buckshot in a small jar. Took the suture material and began to stitch back the wounds, with precise and rapid moves. It could, for a lot of outsiders seem quick, but from where she came from, people came and went, and love bloomed fast. She smiled as the wound was finally closed. She presented the second syringe.

"Do you want the anaesthetic to lessen? You'll have some pain but you'll be able to walk and fight better. It will also give you a boost of adrenaline." She proposed.

Touma nodded, if he could help, he would. Her smile broadened. He was her kind of man. She injected the epinephrine counter drug, an innovation of the R&D department and got back up, before helping Touma to his feet.

"Balance yourself with the tree." She advised a counsel he took. "Are you sure you are ready to do this?" She asked, worried, she liked the courageous man but alive men even more.

He nodded, a confident grin on his face. Unholstering the pistol, he limped to where Luan and McKenzie were and began to help, shooting the advancing undead. They were soon joined by the fourth fighter. The zombie fell, four by four.

However, the advancing horde was still very much growing and soon, they were forced to abandon their position once more. They cracked a few shots before McKenzie called the retreat, also calling Adams for help and Iris for a quicker ex-filtration. They walked back, not too fast, as Touma was slower. However, some new zombie didn't have such qualms.

Viruses, like anything in the world, change. Nothing stays the same, except change itself. Thus, viruses mutate, often rapidly. Even more when they are anomalous. Henceforth, a nightmare was created. Fast zombies. Allying the everlasting endurance of those zombies, their greater strength and fearlessness with rapidity was the perfect recipe for a disaster. Therefore, they had to attack the unlucky boy.

Those new and daunting zombies had managed either by sheer luck or rather lack thereof, to encircle the small troop and rushed to meet the soldiers. Two of them went down thanks to a bullet in the head. But there was a dozen of others and those managed to avoid most bullets. Ansa and Touma who had lagged behind for a bit were overwhelmed and cut off.

Ansa was more determined more than ever. A trait of character which was very present and legendary among Finnish was _Sisu_. _Sisu_ , a word with no equivalent in other languages was a combination of the Finnish character, earned through the survival in one of the harshest lands on earth was a combination of resilience, bravery and grit, a never give up attitude against the harshest of odds that each individual, no matter what had. And at this moments, the odds against them were very rough.

A brain was pierced by a bullet, followed by another one and a third. As the two partners began to fire around them, trying with all they could to repel the coming zombies. While most 'runners' had been neutralized, the other 'walkers' had caught up to them.

Bullets flew but soon, came the weakness of all firearms, the need to reload. While earlier it had not been a problem due to the undead low number and distance, it now rendered the two very vulnerable. But they had an advantage. Touma's right hand could save them.

Indeed as soon as one of the zombies came close to him, Touma hit it, sending it sprawling it turned into a simple corpse. While Ansa was busy reloading he struck all zombies coming too close. It was getting more and more difficult as the circle tightened, the moaning and throes of the undead filled their ears. The stench of rot and death was so strong that plants seemed to wither and die. Their noses could have been one of vultures or corpses as the stench was omnipresent. And yet, Touma could still smell the woody and pure scent of Ansa, like a lighthouse in a stormy sea.

His strikes became more and more effective, dozens fell. Left, right, left, right, left, right, behind, before, behind, before, behind, before. They were everywhere, and the wielder of Imagine Breaker was starting to have trouble keeping up. The desperate defence was soon reinforced by bullets, but at that rate, Touma was still fighting hand to hand.

There, he had to evade an arm, before touching it. No time to waste as another undead threw itself at him, it was pushed back by a strong open palm in its exposed plexus. A punch hit a third in a half-dislocated jaw, sending the lower part flying, an uppercut 'cured' another. Touma gave a few kicks, trying to distance the other zombies from himself when he found himself back to back with Ansa. She murmured something in Finnish, which sounded like a curse. Her gun had run dry once more.

Suddenly, in the sky, a giant disembodied hand appeared, it was transparent and seemed big enough to transport a person. Ansa shouted in surprise.

"It's 105's power."

Touma didn't respond, busy as he was to repel the undead and he did not see the giant hand zeroing toward him to catch him. However, a crucial mistake in this hasty planning was something many, many people failed to account for. Touma's right hand, the Imagine Breaker could destroy anything anomalous, including this hand. As soon as the hand enveloped Touma, it disappeared, the sound of shattering glass accompanying the shattering of any hopes of survival.

On a tower, a bit far away, Iris cried in shock as her power was dispelled, her hand which had penetrated the photograph depicting Touma and Ansa fighting was thrown out and the picture became still.

"Ma'am!" She shouted. "Zero's cancelled my power, I can't help them."

Light gritted her teeth, fuck, she thought. She shouted in her phone.

"Adams! Hurry the fuck up!" She ordered.

"I'm almost there"

But adrenaline and determination managed to keep the two alive. Ansa reloaded in record time, and Touma kept fighting. There was no talk but the two could understand each other. They would be fighting, to the death, if it came to that and most importantly, they would protect each other. Ansa shot a zombie flanking Touma, a crawler who managed to take a hold of Ansa's leg was disposed of by Touma.

But, just like a candle giving in to the darkness, the two fighters were swarmed by zombies. It was at the moment where everything seemed lost that a black blur sped through and struck in the mass of zombies, sending them flying everywhere. The black blur took out a pistol and began shooting with deadly accuracy while moving at great speed, exploding heads like ripe fruits.

The blur, Adams in her suit danced among the zombies, the very image of death itself, kicks and fists squashed brains while bullets exploded them. As blood flew around and enemies fell, she smiled in a feral manner.

None could resist the black-clad whirlwind, the dealer of a second death sent dozens and dozens of undead for a (hopefully) eternal rest. However, Ansa and Touma had relaxed as Adams came reaping the tidal wave of death on legs. But they were too imprudent.

Touma turned to speak to Ansa when he froze, he opened his mouth to shout and warn Ansa. She, herself, looked surprised at his actions before pain flooded her neck. Touma's fist connected with the zombie's face, sending it far from its prey.

Ansa fell on the ground, she barely fought back tears. No, no, no, no. Not now. No, she had fought too much for this, she had weathered the storm only to fall for a breeze, her veins itched as the unholy poison coursed through them, seeking to corrupt her, to transform her into one of those monsters. No, no, no, she would not concede defeat, not now, not after meeting him, she would not. She could hear some kind of buzzing noise.

But will could only go so far, such diseases cannot be fought only with grits. Ansa began to feel the heat of fever appears, her vision darkened as fear began to grip her heart. Worse, the barrel of Adam's gun was brought down, facing her head. She nearly shed a tear when she saw the pistol being pushed away and the face of Touma appear, he was clearly panicked. He said nothing as he lifted her and suddenly, with only a small touch, her vision was cleared and her temperature came down.

She blinked, her heart still pounding, she was on the verge of dying and now everything was fine. She panted, still under the shock, turning her head only to meet with Touma's worried face. In the background, she could hear the noise of a helicopter, the buzzing noise.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"I think... I... Did you just save me?" She asked.

"I think, I don't know if you really are saved."

"Let's get you back to camp, you're barely walking and you've just been bitten." Said Adams.

Touma was about to protest when he nearly fell from the sharp pain he felt, the adrenaline and epinephrine cocktail had worn off, leaving him gravely aching.

"Yeah, let's get back." She looked at the sky. "Watch out this heli, I don't know who it belongs to."

Indeed, a small white helicopter was watching them, as they walked back to the main camp, its camera filming the scene.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Some hundred meters away, Team four was squaring off against a smaller horde of zombies, which were still quite numerous. Wanda Carter fired her carbine, preferring a precise single shot weapon than an automatic inaccurate one. Her bullets often struck true, their intended target's head perforated.

Her team was comprised of Miles, Walker, a member from Beta-7 named Ryouta and herself. She threw a quick look at Karen Walker, the woman was still infuriated against her, understandable but she did follow her orders. It was probably not to get demoted or kicked out.

Her rifle barked once more and bullets flew. One, two, three, four more undead sent to kingdom come. She exhaled, inhaled and once more pressed the trigger. The killing, if it could be called like that, was slow, cold and methodical. It wasn't like any gunfight she had sound herself in, where bullets flew and adrenaline ran wild. No, here the act of killing seemed like nothing more than a chore, a simple task.

But as the time continued its unstoppable advance, the hostile's number grew until keeping the position became impossible. The ever-continuing tide of flesh and bones crept closer and closer to their lines and even more numerous.

"Retreat." She ordered over her squad's radio communications.

All began to step back, delivering a last burst of fire before running to the second defence zone, except Walker who, this time protested.

" _But ma'am, we can still hold them here."_ Came her voice by the radio.

Wanda frowned, orders were orders, and even then, their position was becoming steadily undefendable.

"This is not a suggestion, this is an order soldier."

" _But-"_

"No but, move your ass, or I get you court-martial." Warned Wanda, feeling that firmness was the only way to solve this problem.

 _"You should be the one court-martial_ _l_ _ed."_ Seethed Walker, after changing to a private channel.

Wanda widened her eyes, the words struck a sensitive cord, but she had no time to waste.

"It's not the time for this." She shouted. "get back, or you'll get killed."

" _Why do you even care?"_ Spat Karen, venomously.

"Walker, this for your good, please retreat!" Begged Wanda, she would not have a second death on her conscience.

"I-" Karen abruptly stopped talking and Wanda looked at her position.

The madwoman was about to be overrun, around her, zombies were teeming and she began to fire more desperately, realising she should have retreated before. Wanda swore.

"Cover me." She ordered her teammates. "I'm going to get her out."

They nodded and she sprinted to where Karen was, a good thirty meters away, she slalomed through the trees, careful not to get in Ryouta's and Miles' line of fire as their shots began to connect with some zombies. She herself fired a few shots with her handgun, as the rifle was useless while running.

She saw Karen try to make a run to get out of the slow encirclement, she was nearly out of danger. When, in her haste, the sour disobedient soldier tripped. If it hadn't been so serious, Wanda might have smiled pettily, but it was not the time. While Karen was trying to gather her spirits and grab her weapon, Wanda sped up, the wind whistling in her ears. Her handgun's clip dry, she took her trench knife and got ready for close quarter.

Karen turned on her back, taking out a few zombies with her own handgun, the energy of desperation coursing through her. Clumsily, she crawled back while trying to get up, her endeavour failed as she fell once more on the forest's soil. She squeezed the trigger of her pistol once more, but it did not bark and stayed silent, as there were no bullets in its clip. With a quick movement, she took the rifle. She fired a few shots, killing some of the undead before running out, with a deft movement, she took her knife, but before she could do anything, a zombie pinned her to the ground.

She tried to use her right arm, the left being pinned to push back the zombie, she was barely able to keep its maw from biting her exposed neck. She groaned and screamed as the thing pressed on her harder and harder, she could feel its fetid breath, could see its pale green and black spotted face, she could even see a small worm eating flesh inside the zombie's nose. The corrupted blood began to moisten her uniform and she could feel its cold entrails hanging from its ripped open stomach.

She nearly gagged as strands of saliva fell on her face, she closed her mouth, not wanting to risk being contaminated by such a humiliating way. She nearly screamed as its jaws snapped much too close for comfort, all the while the pressure on her built up and soon her endurance had reached its limit. Her arm gave in and the zombie lowered its face, ready to finally bite open her neck. Karen prepared for the pain and death, praying to God

The zombie stopped and went slack, falling on the side, to reveal Wanda, covered in blood, an even bloodier knife in hand.

"Let's retreat, soldier." She said, extending her hand.

Walker looked flabbergasted for a moment, did the sergeant just killed a good dozen of zombies in close quarters to save her?

"But, why?"

"Because one death is enough." She said, shaking her extended hand. "Now, Walker, let's survive this."

The flabbergasted expression turned into a serious one, though the corner of her lips betrayed her.

"You'll need more than this for your apology." She said, taking Wanda's hand.

"I know."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Eduardo Martin could not believe his eyes, he was an employee of Vermont PBS, a local public television channel. They had been streaming live a ride in a helicopter of the forest of the state. Recently there had been movements of the local fauna and the channel had nothing better to do than make a live documentary on the forests and their change in recent years, hence the rent of a small helicopter for gorgeous views.

While the view was, of course, magnificent, it was not this that made Eduardo doubt his fully

functioning visual organs.

"Guys, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" He asked in the radio, as the buzzing of the rotors disabled normal vocal communication.

" _Yup, what the hell are those?"_ Asked his co-worker, Carson.

This was a question that would be asked many times over the duration of the live documentary, with people even posting pictures of it on social media.

" _They look like zombies."_ Joked Billy, the helicopter pilot.

This comment actually set the social media in a frenzy, and soon the stream was watched on the internet by thousands of persons and discussions around this became more and more numerous, from Twitter to Reddit and even passing by 4Chan and the dark depths of the Internet, normal and paranormal.

The crew had been filming the skirmish between the walking dead and the soldiers for a bit, they were fascinated and had stopped their actual task, even the Vermont PBS' headquarters hadn't ordered them to get back to work. It was hard to see due to the wood but the advancing mass of corpse could still be seen, and the staccato of guns be heard.

Eduardo realized something, or rather two things. The first was that despite being in the middle of winter, the trees looked like they were in the middle of Fall, with bright orange and sometimes red leaf. The second was that those people were probably in danger, he felt stupid to not realize that before. If they were shooting, probably at that mass of walking people, there was a problem. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw, in a small hole of the orange-red canopy a soldier, a female it seems and a younger male back to back, shooting at said persons, he moved the camera, focusing it on them.

They looked like they were in a bad position as the zombie, he decided to name them were closing on them. To be honest, he did not really want to help. But, suddenly, from the wood came a black blur which began to kill the zombies with inhuman speed.

At that point, the social media were on fire as the feed was even transmitted on national television and around the world.

Suddenly, the massacre ended, and at one point, the black-clad figure looked up and pointed its gun at the helicopter. Eduardo felt a shiver run down his spine. He didn't have to tell the pilot to fly away as he did so on his own. They flew away, leaving behind the sound of battle.

" _Hey is that a manor?"_

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Uuuuuh, sir?" Called a man on a computer. "You may want to see that."

"Hmm?" Asked nonchalantly another man, coming to see the computer's monitor.

He looked at it a bit before making a double take.

"Holy shit!" He shouted.

"What's that, sir?"

"Trouble, son. Activate the web crawlers and call the Info Suppressors, we have work to do."

In the following seconds, videos, streams television live were shut down, either by hacking, pressure or bribe. Pieces of information were confiscated and safely stored in a remote server. The normalcy of the world had to be conserved.

Already, in a building far away, a group of men and women were discussing how to best disguise this paranormal leak into a normal event, which would not threaten the normalcy of the world.

"I guess, we can say it was for a film. We don't have a lot of options, this is the best one if we manage to alter the footage a bit." Said a woman.

"You know, we'll have to release a movie if we do this." Sighed another.

"It's not the first time we do this." Shrugged a man.

Finally, a consensus was reached and the film, The Forest of The Walking Dead would soon be released and all the footage caught by the helicopters were moments of the movie. Meanwhile, on thousands of forums, Foundation agents would debunk any conspiracy theory on the subject, despite their truthfulness.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Meanwhile at Camp Granada, the fighting was dying down, with the bulk of the zombie 'army' eliminated, the few remaining packs were hunted down, and neutralized, the combined efforts of all teams paid off after several retreats and bloody fights, it was with nearly all consumed ammunition that they returned to the main camp after hours of searching, as the sky darkened like ink had spilt on it. The stars, bright and numerous lit up the sky as the cheers of the victor was heard.

Touma, however, had his mind elsewhere. He was currently leaning in the dark against a mobile infirmary with a forest military jacket on his shoulders to protect him from the cold. His gaze was settled on the calm and crescent-shaped moon. However, his mind was tumultuous and worried. He bit his inner cheek. It had been a few hours since Ansa had been brought here to be checked on, and he could only hope that she would be okay. He hoped that his hand had saved her, he would have prayed, even in his faithlessness, if his hand did not make that useless.

A voice came from the infirmary and soon the door opened, from it came Ansa. She looked relieved and healthy. Touma did not waste time, he walked rapidly to her, she remarked him and smiled.

"Are you alright?" He asked. "You're not infected."

She shook her head, mirth apparent on her face.

"The doc said I was all clear. Thank you for saving me." She said.

And suddenly, Touma found himself in the arms of Ansa, squeezed from the side by the arms of the grateful sniper. His face reddened, and he was at first at loss of words.

"I-I... You're welcome. I mean you saved my life too."

"Oh, it was just a small wound." She laughed off.

"No, I could have died if you hadn't saved me. Thank you, Ansa." He said, softly.

"You're welcome... Touma." She said, a smile forming on their lips.

As they smiled, each heart's fluttered, even if a certain dense boy did not know why. Under the moonlight, victory was celebrated. Elsewhere, Adams and Clef were talking, privately.

"The suits' battery barely held, tell R&D to get on that." Said Adams.

"Already did that, now, let's get you patched up." Answered Clef, talking a needle from an infirmary bag.

Adams nodded, she barely winced as the big needle pierced her skin. Her tired and sore muscles stopped aching and she sighed in relief.

"Try not to overdo it, you can get seriously hurt." Said Clef, looking at her right in the eye.

She huffed, not wanting to admit weakness.

"I can take care of myself." She answered, getting up and heading for the door. "Thank you." And she exited the room.

Clef's only response was to shake his head and grumble.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Greeting, I'm Lerouge, may we talk?" Said the man in perfect Japanese.

Misaka Mikoto and company, aka Kanzaki, Othinus, Tsuchimikado, Styil, an unconscious Accelerator and four Imoutos looked suspiciously at the man. His warm smile left the cold impression of a snake. A dozen of men in white long coats and gas masks stood eerily silent, with only the sound of their breather followed by the mist coming from it to confirm they were alive and not statues.

"Who are you?" Asked Misaka.

"As I said, I am Lerou-"

"Are you an enemy or a friend?" Asked Misaka, aggressively.

The man looked rather offended, he sighed and shook his head slowly.

"Youth those days." He said while looking no older than thirty. "No politeness. But to answer your question." Everyone tensed up. "I can be a friend."

This did not really calm the tensions. The 'can' implied some kind of service, and none of them was eager to know what it was about.

"But, I am a human being, and I would help even those who are not my friend."

It was Tsuchimikado's turn to speak up.

"What if we are to refuse your 'help'?"

"The nearest human construction is tens of kilometres away. You have no obvious means of transportation, the cold is not about to leave, in fact, a storm is coming, and obviously." He looked at them from head to toe and grimaced. "You are obviously not prepared for such weather."

Silence met his declaration. The two sides, those in warm suits and those who were not, staying tense for a few seconds before a tacit agreement was reached. With their powers seemingly gone, the dimension hoppers were likely to die pathetically, killed by crystallized cold water.

"Very well, we'll follow you." Conceded the group.

"You won't regret your decision." Said Lerouge, bowing his head lightly. "If you would follow me." He extended his hand toward a small path through the woods.

Despite their agreement, the group was still hesitant to follow them. As Lerouge began to depart by the path, he turned to look at them, a small smile on his lips.

"Please, follow us, we can help you." He said sympathetically, before turning his back, his smile disappearing as soon as his face was out of sight.

The group followed him, looking at the men in the white long coats. They stood motionless until, at one point, half of them formed two columns of three and walked before the group while the others formed an identical formation behind them. As they moved they revealed long black rifles, hidden behind their back and held them by the butt, perpendicular to the ground, like soldiers during a parade. Their march was robotic and synchronised, any officers would have killed for such discipline and synchrony. However, there was also a sentiment of unease, as their movements were too similar and precise, too much.

However, it would take more than that to intimidate the dimension hopper, as they had seen worse than faceless robotic soldiers. But, as they progressed into the snowy woods, they saw, in the shadow of dozen and dozen more soldiers in the wood, barely remarkable. That worried them a bit more.

They continued walking for a few minutes before arriving at a clearing which was full of vehicles, trucks and armoured transport. A tank was even present, its cannon looming menacingly toward the forest. What caught their eyes was the sigil upon the tanks and vehicles was of a circle pierced but below was the flag of Japan and some insignias of the Self Defence Force.

They were met by a waiting Lerouge, standing without shivering in the cold despite his thin looking suit. He was surrounded by twenty soldiers, dressed in the same way as the others. He nodded at them and extended his hand toward a military truck.

"I invite you to take a seat in this truck."

"That's a lot of people you have here." Said Styil.

"Indeed, now come on, we wouldn't want you to catch a cold, would we?" Answered Lerouge, not letting the conversation continue.

He himself retreated to another transport, an armoured one, some soldiers following him. Without another choice, the group went to the designated truck, the inside was rather spacious for their group, but soon became cramp as white-clad soldiers boarded the same truck, not saying a word. Tsuchimikado, always fishing for information tried to break the ice.

"So, crazy cold out there, you must be pretty motivated to stay out there."

His words did not produce any kind of reaction, no words. Their breathing pattern did not even change.

"Come on, don't give us the cold shoulder." Joked Tsuchimikado.

Once again silence met him, with members of the group sighing and looking at him with exasperation for this bad pun;

"Looks like you have Cold Standard for puns." He punned once more, at everyone's unhappiness.

Well, not everyone as one of the soldiers made a sound, which resembled a barely suppressed snicker. One of the other soldiers looked at him, his eyes piercing behind his lenses, the snickering soldier stopped in a split second, looking like nothing had happened. The lenses of the gas mask then looked at Tsuchimikado, a silent warning was given before the soldier stopped and looked as stony as before.

While the group did want to talk, at least speculate about where they were going but the presence of the stern guards also kept them as silent as them. At least the truck had heating, warming up its interior. The ride was rather bumpy and the truck often swerved, like it was on a mountainous road. After an hour or so of travel, the convoy, as it was composed of two armoured transports and one truck stopped.

While the dimension hoppers could not see it, they were at a military checkpoint, a squad of guards exited a bunker and came to the armoured transport, they knocked on its shell and asked.

"Papers please."

From a small opening came the said papers, which a guard scanned with an electronic device before nodding and giving them back. He signalled that the convoy was authorized and soon the metal bars which blocked the road were lifted. From hidden emplacements, the two hidden anti-tank guns and machine guns stopped aiming at it.

The convoy proceeded and soon entered a large military base, carved in a mountain. The vehicles soon entered a vast hangar and finally stopped. The soldiers disembarked, and the group followed them. They were met by Lerouge once again, a smile still plastered on his face.

"Welcome to AS-54, if you could follow me once more." He said, departing with a few guards.

The dimension travellers followed suit, taking in the sight of the white walls and monotone building. As they walked through the halls of the Site, they were quite surprised by the numerous friendly greeting Lerouge received and returned. The soldiers even nodded to some greeting, still staying sober and grave.

They passed many rooms and hallways before finally arriving at a large room which Lerouge entered, 'CR-1' was marked above it. The room looked like a conference room, wide with many seats and table arranged in a semicircle around a rectangular one. Lerouge sat the rectangular table and invited them, politely, as always to take a seat, which they did. He engaged the conversation before they could talk.

"I know you have some question and so do we, and I will be happy to answer them, and to hear yours." He said.

"Who is 'we'?" Asked Kanzaki, asking the most obvious question.

"We, are the SCP Foundation, we are a non-governmental organization, we offer, protection services." He answered, but before a second question could be asked he went on the offensive first. "How did you find yourself here?"

"We were... looking for a friend."

The red-streaked man nodded, letting them ask the next question.

"What kind of people do you protect?" Asked Styil.

"We protect the world." Simply answered Lerouge.

This provoked a reaction from the group. Protecting the world? What kind of organization was that they sounded like the Necessarius but worldwide.

"Now, about this fascinating... person." He pointed to Othinus, perched on Misaka's shoulder. "Who are you? All of you, including you five." He pointed this time at Misaka and the four Imoutos.

"I." Began Misaka. "Am Misaka... Kaminari." She simply stated. "And my sisters-"

"I am Misaka Sanjuu. Says Misaka as Misaka present herself." Said Misaka 10032.

Each of them presented a false name, in order to not disclose their identity, by precaution. Lerouge smirked behind his joint hand.

"I see." He simply commented.

"Why did you help us and why were you there?"

"That's two question but why not. As I said, our goal is to protect the world, this zone is known for its thin dimensional walls, and such an accident is not so rare. We simply collect those who arrive and... we see if they are not a threat. But, now, who is your friend?"

"Someone you don't know."

Lerouge shrugged chuckled interiorly.

"What is your organization's name?" Wondered Misaka.

"We are the SCP Foundation." Simply replied Lerouge. "Now, I will not ask you a question but propose you an arrangement."

The group waited, anxious.

"In exchange of your... services, we will help you find your friend and heal your white-haired one, Yuki Takei, was it?" He proposed, pointing at Accelerator. He got up and walked to the door, his bodyguards following him. "I will let you an hour or so to decide. Oh, and one last thing. Do not lie to me, Misaka Mikoto, Tsuchimikado Motoharu, Styil Magnus, Kanzaki Kaori, Accelerator, Othinus, Misaka 10032, 19090, 10039, 10055 and 13577." He threatened before closing the door and leaving the room in an uneasy silence.

"Oh." Said Misaka.

"What... should we do?" Asked Styil.

"We should cooperate, we have little to no bargaining power right now and are nearly at our weakest. We don't even have the equipment to help Accelerator, as comatose as he is." Said Tsuchimikado.

They debated the pros and cons of cooperating with this SCP Foundation for a good hour, before reaching a conclusion. Working with this organization could prove beneficial at the short term, they would be able to learn more about this world, about Touma and shall they prove to be a burden, their powers should have returned by that time, allowing them to escape any restraint. Already, the magicians could feel something different about this world's magic and be trying to adapt to it with few successes.

When Lerouge came back, he found the entire group staring at him.

"Have you made your decision?" He asked, not bothered the slightest by their intense gaze.

"Yes, but first." Began Misaka, suspiciously. "How did you learn our names?"

"... I have my sources, I do know what you are capable of. You are all magicians from either the Anglican Church or other cults. So, what about our offer?"

Misaka raised her eyebrows, did they believe she was a magician? The Imoutos and Accelerator too? She decided to say nothing, let them believe what they wanted.

"So, you know who I am, human?" Asked Othinus, rather arrogantly.

"Yes, we do. We know much about you. And we are not afraid. Now, your answer?" He counter asked, getting impatient.

The group looked at each other.

"Well, we will accept your offer."

Lerouge smiled, nodding before pressing something on his suit.

"I see you have made the best decision, now let me honour one of our promises, and begin the second one."

From the door came a doctor and two nurses with a stretcher trolley. The doctor came up to Lerouge and told him a few words, before giving him a small vacuum sealed cylinder covered with what looked like an air filtration system. Lerouge opened it and from it came a crimson dragonfly who flew to his shoulder. He thanked the doctor who approached the group. The doctor was an Asian man in his late forties, a few wrinkles were forming on his face and his hair had already begun to fall.

"I'm Doctor Shinozawa, I will be taking care of this young man if you don't mind." He presented himself, indicating Accelerator who had been dumped into a chair by the two Imoutos carrying him.

The two nurses came to Accelerator and lifted him before gently deposing him on the stretcher and rolling it away.

"Don't worry, we'll take good care of him."

While most did not believe they would be able to heal him, it was still better than letting him die because of a lack of equipment.

As the medical crew left, Lerouge came to sit at the rectangular table. His pet dragonfly buzzing over his shoulder.

"I wish to help you find your friend. Could you describe him for me?"

"How could you find him?" Asked Kanzaki, dubious.

"We managed to find and compile a file about you, Saint. I'm sure we can do so with that friend of yours."

"Well.' Began Tsuchimikado "Asian male, late teenager, black spiky hair, black eyes, 1 meter and seventy centimetres."

"And his name?"

"Kamijou Touma."

"Very well." Said Lerouge, after noting the different pieces of information on his notepad. "Anything else."

"He seems to have, hmm, appeared at the same place as we did." Exposed Misaka. "Maybe you have something on him."

Lerouge seemed to think about it.

"I doubt so if we had managed to catch him on the cameras he would have been caught. Our equipment can be faulty during some weather. He could have slip through our fingers, but we will launch searches in the nearby environment to look for him. I hope he didn't die from the cold, that would be a true shame."

"Don't worry he is not the type." Said Styil.

"Oh? Can you tell me a bit more about his comportment?"

"Well." Said Misaka. "He is unique, always getting himself in trouble, plain looking and a total idiot."

"Most importantly." Began Tsuchimikado very seriously. "Wherever he is, whatever he is doing, you'll probably have some women chasing after him."

This incited a series of facepalm from the group. Misaka nearly zapped the idiot before remembering not to show her power and hit him in the shoulder. Lerouge chuckled before extending his hand toward Misaka.

"I think this is the start of a great partnership."

And when Misaka shook it, she could not help but feel she was shaking the devil's hand.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"All in favour, raise their hands."

And all hands rose. Some not worthy of being called hands, more physical manipulation apparatus.

"I then hereby announce the official creation of Mobile Task Force Alpha-9 'Last Hope' and Lambda-2 'No name entered' as a full bodied and operating Mobile Task Force. They shall be the flames that lit the path to victory against the darkness we face. They shall make our shield, the shield of humanity stronger than ever before. They shall be our vanguard." Announced The Administrator.

A few applauses welcomed the declaration. He smiled, even when he noticed the accusing expression of 1.

He went back to his office, sat in the comfy leather chair and checked his email while drinking some brandy, a small reward for an advance in his plan. Ah, so the Committee had accepted. Good.

Then it was time to speed up his secondary plan. It hadn't gone as he expected at first, time to correct that. He took his phone, a beautiful relic of a bygone century and called. The numerous programs and charms of the phone twisting his voice, tones and even accent.

"Yes, transport our 'resident' as I told you. Yes, it is... Of course, 'inform' Meynard of his 'orders'. Yes, well done. Godspeed."

He smiled and laid back in his chair. He would never tire of acting and sounding like an evil mastermind.


	15. Mental and Physical headbutting

.L was stretching in a workout room. He inspired deeply, extended his palms towards the sky. He exhaled before stretching his entire body. The last part being his right leg, he did so but with a pained grimace as the pain of the bullet wound was still here, phantom but still felt. Even though his muscles and other organic tissue had been repaired, his body was still registering the pain, it was toned down but still there, unfortunately.

He then boxed the dangling sand-filled sack, hitting it with force and precision. He continued like this, giving some kicks even with his right leg, something he regretted almost immediately. He was so taken he did not notice a shadow come near him, he continued to punch the sack, with all his frustration and energy, which he had in huge reserves.

Only when the person coughed, he noticed her. He stopped immediately, startled and fell face to invisible face with L.S. He was dressed in her simple green robes, a golden sceptre with a snake coiled around it, his face hidden by her large hood.

"Oh, uh, hello, L.S."

"Come, walk with me." Asked the Head Librarian. "How are you holding up?"

G.L obeyed, taking a crutch and following the robed woman, as he walked through the paths of the Wanderer's Library.

"I'm doing well, L.S. Do you... wanted to talk to me about something."

"I did, but first, take this." He handed him a small opaque jar.

G.L took it in his hand, a curious look on his face, he shook it lightly and the sound of small hard objects clashing against one another could be heard.

"Those are pills, they are made to fight against phantom pain. While yours should not last long, I still thought it would be better this way. Oh, and don't worry about dependence or secondary effects, I made them myself, they shouldn't have any of these effects. Take one per day." She explained.

"Thank you." Said G.L, taking one of the pills, small green things, and swallowing it.

"Don't thank me, it's only normal. Furthermore... I actually need your services once more."

"What is it?" Asked G.L, hiding his discontentment, the pain still a reminder of the danger of those missions.

"This assignment should be relatively tamer than your last one. For this mission, I want you to collect information on the location of Site-19. Our agents inside it are still not capable of locating it, this information is nearly impossible to get."

"So, why do you send me? Isn't that pointless?"

L.S produced a set of small stones and playing cards, strange symbols were inscribed with glowing symbols either blue, red or purple of different tones

"The runes have predicted you will produce results, one way or another." She revealed.

G.L raised his eyebrows.

"Aren't they, like, really not precise?" He asked.

"You are the best results I had." L.S revealed.

"You are sure they are not rigged?" He joked.

"Those are sacred stones which have worked perfectly for hundreds of years, so no they are not rigged!" She protested.

"Yeah, yeah, I was just joking. Anyway, do you have anywhere I should need to go first?"

"In fact, there is, South, South-West of the US." She informed him.

"Why does it always have to be the US?" He moaned.

"It has always been a trouble magnet."

"This country will be the death of me."

"It will be the death of all of us if we don't get rid of everything that took hold there, and you can do something against that."

G.L nodded, yes, he needed to get his ass moving regardless if he wanted to or not, it was his duty, it was a necessity. He had signed up for this. Slowly, he looked at L.S' hidden face and bowed his head.

"I will do it."

L.S smiled behind his hood, she gave him a notebook.

"Here, those are some contacts, hideouts and waypoints for different cities and places in North America, use it wisely." She informed him warmly.

"Will do." He curtly responded, taking the notebook.

As he was about to depart to prepare his journey, she stopped him.

"Oh, and take the twins with you, their company will be needed." She told him, and before he could answer, she dissolved in a cloud of purple smoke which disappeared in seconds.

"Understood." He told the empty room.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Monika Engel was in her hotel room. It was cheap. The paint on the wall barely covered half of the walls. At least she did not stay too much in it. Even though she had more freedom here than in the base, the room was still shoddy, and freedom was always better enjoyed outisde. She was currently writing her first report to Orion. It had been a day since she arrived, and nothing had happened. She had spent the day placing various small cameras and motion detectors in order to secure her 'operation base', she had also discreetly reviewed the small staff. While the director of the hotel was affiliated with the Insurgency, the employees were not, and to her relief, she found nothing concerning.

She finished typing the activities of her first day, spellchecked it, and sent it to Orion via encrypted message passing through the Unit Sleight Hand intranet. She got up from the small bed and went to the window. There she was met by the sight of Skid Row, the night had just settled. It was the time when lowlife came out, it was the time where information was the most abundant. It was time to work.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Matthew Keynes and George Edward were sitting at a bar. The first was lightly sipping a glass of whiskey, and the second was smoking a cigarette. They were silent, contrasting with the bar's cheery humour. The bar was rundown and old, but that seemed enough to satisfy the patrons, who came here to share a beer after a hard day of work, blue and white collars alike. The bar really gave off old-time vibes.

"Rough day?" Asked the barman.

"Rough week." Answered Matthew, downing the half-filled glass.

He smacked it on the table and gestured to the barman, who understood and filled it once more. George's ordered a strong shot of vodka, which he gulped before asking for a refill which suffered the same fate.

As the barman went away, taking care of other patrons, they began to converse.

"So, you found something?" Asked Matthew.

"Hell no, I think we're wasting time here, we should move to another state." Said George, playing with his glass.

"No, I still think there are things to do here. I can feel it in my guts."

The door of the rundown bar opened, and Matthew looked towards it, vaguely interested to see whatever new face was coming in. He arched an eyebrow when from it came a young ginger teen. She looked out of place with her youthful look, though her face had the distinct mark of determination.

"Bit too young to hang out here, don't ya think?" Asked George.

Matthew nodded, looking at the girl who made her way, wading through the crowd, who were looking at her, interested. She threw them a dark look, making most patrons look away and focus on their drink. Matthew and George, out of boredom and a certain gut feeling continued to watch her, albeit more discreetly.

She sat at a table at the far end of the bar, nearly slipping in the shadows. She ordered nothing, nor did she talk to anyone and just waited in the corner.

"Looks fishy, doesn't it?"

Matthew couldn't agree more, taking a drag from his cigarette, he was sure something abnormal or at least criminal was going on here. He was a man of the law, and things like that wouldn't happen, not under his watch.

He got up, gesturing to George. George did not question him, instead he followed him. He went to a table near the young girl. He noticed one where two seats were empty. As he came closer he heard the name of one of the men seated there, Benny, oh, and they were talking about a high school, Saint Damien. He decided to try his luck.

"Hey, isn't that Benny?" He called the man, who turned to look at him.

"We know each other?" He asked, looking at Matthew head to toes.

"Don't you remember, we were together in high school. Mathis Jones, you know, at Saint Damien." He lied, seating at the table, George following him.

"No... Sorry, I don't really remember." Said Benny, perplexed.

"Ah, I'm sure a bit of talking will refresh your memory." He called the waiter, who came to take orders. "A round of drinks for the table, my treat."

Soon four beers came at the table. Matthew continued to discuss with Benny, trying to convince him he was a classmate from high school. In the end, the four men discussed happily recent events and small things, laughing genuinely.

Suddenly, a man entered, not discreet. He was dressed in a long dark raincoat. He was looking around him with worried glances, his eyes caught Monika's, and he headed toward her, lightly pushing the people in his way.

Monika frowned. She had already been remarked due to her age, he was only adding to the attention. She took a quick look at the two suited men discussing with two other people at a nearby table, she had seen that one of them looked at her with suspicion. The informant finally sat at the table.

"You're late." She hissed.

"I'm sorry, but I had problems on the road." He told her in hushed tones. "Nothing compromising, it's family related." he said, seeing her suspicious gaze.

She looked in the man's eyes for a few seconds, before breaking eye contact, he had shown no sign of lying.

"So do you have any information on... what we are looking for? The site." She added the last part in a barely audible whisper.

But that was enough for George to pick it up.

"I got some lead, but you know it's gonna be costly."

"My backers will take care of that." She informed him.

He nodded and leaned forward.

"I'll gladly give you some first leads, but not here. I know a discreet place for transactions."

She pondered for a few seconds, weighing the pro and cons of following him. Finally, she decided to go with him, it would be strange for him to ambush her or ruin a profitable trade. She accepted and they left the bar. However, they did not notice Matthew and George cutting their conversation short and following them.

They stalked the streets of the city, the night covering them. They did encounter some people, but most, when looking at the man accompanying her, retreated or ignored them with a certain tension. She looked at the man, intrigued. He shrugged.

"I guess I'm known."

The streets got more and more devoid of life as they progressed, the light of the city seemed to dim. They reached a dark alley after a few minutes, where the end could not be seen, the darkness too thick. The two shadows had not been discovered, their steps light and discreet, eyes sharp and calm.

However, they were not the only ones in the shadow. Not even aware of the situation, G.L was waiting, waiting. He took his head in his hands, the sheer frustration of the two-hour wait was becoming unbearable. He had met the near-twins before his departure, trying to make them help him. It had not taken a long time, they were actually eager for some actions, something he was thankful for. He would owe them a lot after that. However, the two twins of mind were doing... something, their business, as shady or strange as it may be, so he went ahead, fixing a rendez-vous point. But, their meeting time was overdue by two hours.

He was also dreading the fact that something had gone wrong. They were more than capable to take care of themselves, as their long and numerous ventures had proven. But still, it was unusual for them to be this late. He turned as he heard a sound, footsteps. He tensed and listened, but the sound became faint, the persons were walking away from him. He sighed in thankful relief.

Monika was following the informant. From what she had gathered, his name or rather nickname was Cloak. He was supposed to have recently gotten hold of Foundation's secret intel. While the retrieval, torture and execution procedure had been considered, the potential of this source was too great to kill, instead, the contact, befriend, the exchange procedure was chosen. The shadows, she noticed with a certain sense of discomfort grew and blinded her vision. But the shape of the buildings and of the information broker was still visible.

As the broker stopped, looking around, he turned to Monika.

"I think it's far enough to start negotiating."

She nodded, feeling the reassuring weight of her gun in her back holster as well as the cold and hard steel of her multiple knives. She nearly drew her gun and one of her knives when some kind of lightning illuminated the street, behind her, a banging noise filled her ears for a few seconds. She turned, startled to find absolutely nothing.

"Wait here." She ordered the man.

She took out her handgun, knife in her other hand and, slowly started moving to the source. Gun arm stabilized by her knife arm, she felt the man move behind her. She turned toward him to order him to stay put. She was faced by an armed informant, a revolver in hand.

"Don't worry, the cloak had a dagger." He said as if he was expecting to say this line since he was born.

She nodded and went to the source. As she approached stealthily, she began to hear some voices.

"... doing?"

"Eh, sorry bro." Replied Kendrick, the black dreadlocks wearing one.

"We were kinda in the middle of something." Told the other one, Jordan, the one with a man bun, chuckling.

"I know but what kind of... you know I don't want even want to know." G.L admitted, defeated.

"Yeah, you don't." Said the two, in sync, laughing at his expense.

The exchange was heard by the two other groups, who made their way towards its source. George and Matthew had entered the dark street and they saw two shapes turn a corner. Monika had just turned a corner, still followed by her companion when she noticed the three persons, about five or six meters away.

She was surprised that she did notice them but thinking about it, they might have just arrived. She continued to progress but decided to place her weapons behind her back. Peaceful interaction was preferable first.

The two group, upon first contact, turned to look at each other. Unsure of what to do. The encounter turned sour when from the shadow came the agents of the Global Occult Coalition. George widened his eyes.

"Isn't that..." Trailed off George.

"Yes." Replied Matthew, taking a set of strange handcuffs. "Hey, you three. You are under arrest, don't move." He said at the three.

The three sides were tensed with Monika and Cloak trying not to get involved. Suddenly, G.L launched a ray of light toward George. He didn't move at all, the ray dissipating before him.

"Resistance is futile." He told them, taking out his handgun, an action replicated by Matthew. "Come with us, members of the Serpent Hand are well treated."

Monika was stunned. So those were Serpent's Hand's agent. The organization was elusive and famed for its abnormal and anarchic structure, making any fight against them frustrating and difficult. They were akin to guerrilla fighters, hard to catch and hitting hard in one well-planned attack.

"We don't trust you Coalition bastards." Spat Kendrick. "Y'all traitors or Nazis."

A vein popped on Matthew's hand and he aimed at Kendrick, fingers on the trigger.

"Say that one more time." He dared the werewolf.

Meanwhile, Monika was even more shocked. That made two rival agency in the same city. The Coalition, she was more familiar with them, having already participated in skirmish and missions against them. They were like the Foundation only more reckless, stupid and fanatic but they had the firepower to back up their actions.

She smiled, they were already at each other's throat. If she let them fight first, she could then finish off the weakened victors and secure the Insurgency's hold on the city.

"Come on everyone knows it, half your people comes from the Reich and fossils stuck in the Middle Ages. And the other half are neo-Nazis." Jeered Jordan.

"Don't you fucking d-".

"And your leader was Mussolini's bootlicker!"

The shot went off. Followed by several more. In response rays of lightning and a shield of light was erected. Then it went to hell. Monika expected to strike later, but her companion fired wildly in the two directions and tried to run. He would have been cut in half by a ray of light if Monika hadn't grabbed him by the collar. She dove to the ground, taking him with her.

"What are you doing?" She hissed, her chances were nearly ruined.

The man broke in excuses, but the deed was already done. She groaned and took from her vest a small cylinder, she pulled a pin on it and let it on the ground. The canister opened, smoking their position and hiding them. She gave him a wet rag to put around his mouth, and she took another one. The material was barely protecting her but it was better than nothing.

They were not in any position to resist four magicians at the moment. She began to crawl away, the darkness of the street and the smoke hiding her. Shots and other projectiles whistled above her. She was in a really bad spot, sandwiched between two hostile forces, great.

Beside her, the man was mumbling about how he would always regret his life choice. She considered her options, which amounted to nothing. If she had known she would have taken her entire field gear, she should have known better. She hated to admit it, but Murphy's law was right. That mistake may cost her her life.

For now, she had one smoke grenade left, her pistol, about fifty bullets, a flash-bang, a pepper spray, her knife and plastic handcuffs. The smoke would last for a dozen more seconds, her second one would last for a minute. Not enough for her to take advantage of a weakened victor. The only way of survival was to run. Make a breakthrough, and run, run to live.

Meanwhile, the fight between the Serpent's hand and the Coalition's agent's was in a stalemate. Each physical or magical projectiles was blocked by a barrier, and despite all their power, the fives were in a deadlock, especially concerning the Hand's trio.

"What do you mean, you can't transform?" He seethed at the two brothers, as bullets and blue-red projectiles crashed on their supernatural protection.

"Look we had to deal with some problems, you know a waiting time is needed between each of our transformations."

G.L grunted, of course, they had to get attacked like that.

"How much time before you can transform?" He asked.

"A couple of hours." Well, that snuffed his hopes.

He just hoped he would be able to win or at least end the fight with a draw. Meanwhile, George and Matthew were surprised at their enemy's resistance. They had expected, due to the youth of their enemies, hot headed individuals, like werewolves who would have blindly charged. However, they fought with discipline, something rare in the anarchical paramilitary groups of the Serpent's Hand.

"Count your bullets, Matt." Said George, before raising a protection, catching a bolt of light.

Matthew nodded, placing a few bullets in the directions of their enemy's head, the projectiles bounced harmlessly and he switched, extending his hand, a bright red and blue bolt came from his ring. This one also crashed on the shield but seemed to weaken it as the light flickered for a bit.

He was about to double his efforts and press on when from the soon to be dissipated smoke came another grenade landed at their feet. Another canister landed near the three agents.

"Oh F-" Said the fives.

The grenade near G.L exploded in a show of bright light and deafening sound, blinding them and disorienting them. Meanwhile, a cloud of smoke erupted, blinding the Coalition's fighters. Monika pulled Cloak with her, dragging him by the sleeve, telling him to hurry up.

She preferred not to take a shot so she could not be located by the flash of her weapons. However, that kind of thinking did not come to her companion's mind. Firing in the general direction of Matthew and George, the man only revealed his position. And as a bullet whistled near George, he decided to take no risk. A ray of energy nearly cut Cloak in half, cutting him from the left hip to the right kidney. He fell on the floor, lifeless.

Monika cursed and ducked as two bolts whistled overhead. She continued to run at full speed at the exit of the side-street. Her legs carried her as fast as she could, the Coalition agents were once more distracted by the, now recovered, Serpent Hands operators.

Each side began to tire, and run out of energy and ammunition. The fight drew for so long that, surprisingly police sirens were heard. The two sides stopped, they knew what it meant. Complications. They wouldn't be able to vanquish the other in time, dealing with the police forces was not the problem, the aftermath was.

So, slowly, eyes locked, Matthew and George retreated, leaving the Hands free to retreat themselves. They did so, narrowly escaping the clutches of the police.

The police would be perplexed. Strange signs of fighting, bullets that seemed to hit an invisible wall, a nearly dissected man and grenade casings. A true mind wrecking case and the dark, cold and creepy atmosphere of the street was not helping, the damn thing was not even on the city's map!

The inspector, whom this case was delegated to, found himself confronted with mountains upon mountains of red tape, he tried to dig deeper, against the warning of his superior, like the City's Chief of Police. However, this would not deter the young inspector. Unfortunately, the young man would find death, accidentally drowning in his bathtub.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Monika finally arrived at her hotel room; She had walked through the numerous streets of Los Angeles, hiding in numerous places, trying to lose any tails she had. She had been successful in her endeavour, and no one was following her.

She flopped in her bed, sighed and called Orion.

"Sir? Yes, I need some reinforcements."

As Matthew and George entered their room, in their headquarters. Their first action was to call Chandar, their superior for reinforcement.

Meanwhile, in an apartment, G.L and the two almost brothers contacted L.S, requiring aid.

When a side is confronted with a hostile force, its first decision is to take an edge, any advantage against this threat, leading to the escalation of force humanity is well known for.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Hey, where do I plug this?" Asked a man in a work jumpsuit.

"Oh, the third hole from the left." Indicated another man.

"Okay, that should be good." Said the first. Pushing a button.

The monitor of a small and old computer lit up, revealing a black and white face. It barely looked human, with a twisted smile.

"Time to leave." Grunted one of the guards in the room.

The two workers did not need to be asked a second time and exited the room as quick as they could.

"Is it really safe to take it?" Asked a scientist in an observation bay.

His co-worker shrugged.

"Orders are orders, the procedures are very precise."

"But still." She insisted. "I'm not sure this is very safe."

"Well, we can't do anything about it."

In the containment chamber. The old intelligence woke. The slumber had been short. It registered the appearance of the walls. It was very similar to his old prison. It reviewed its programming. There was nothing to be done. His consciousness dimmed. Had to save storage.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Light and Bright were with Touma, in Light's office. A quaint room decorated with pictures and painting of various landscapes. Upon the desk folders and other papers were arranged in neat stacks.

"So you wanted to see us?" Asked Light.

"Yes, it's about the last mission."

This made Light and Bright look at each other before Light invited him to continue.

"What you said about the amnestics."

"What about it?" Questioned Bright.

"It's just that... you can't do this." Said Touma.

"What do you mean?" Wondered Light. "Amnestics have been a part of the Foundation has long as I can remember."

Touma frowned, couldn't they see the problem.

"You can't just make people forget things like that, mess with their memories and things like that." Said Touma, outraged.

"It is standard procedure." Replied Light dryly.

"Peoples have the right to know about what they did, and you have no right to take that away from them!"

Light and Bright looked at him, boring their eyes into his. But despite their rather intimidating gaze, he did not flinch. His eyes were firm and uncompromising. Light felt like it would be a long battle to change his mind.

"Look, kid." Began Bright. "We ain't doing this by pleasure but necessity. It's both for their own safety and ours."

"I'm going to tell you a story I had back home." Touma said. "Academy City had groups like your Mobile Tasks Force. One of them did to their men what you do to yours."

He was completely lying and was inventing. But, he was pretty sure something like this could happen in Academy City.

"Thing is how could they trust their superiors when they did such things? They ended up deserting."

"I assure you that whatever we do, it is for their security." Said Bright.

Touma shook his head.

"Even then, how many distrust you because of this? How many think that you used them against their will?"

Bright and Light stood silent, but their glaring eyes told that he had touched something sensible.

"You are putting together an elite team, those are people that trust you, so trust them. Trust is mutual."

"But, if they are interrogated, it i-"

"Well, your enemies think you still give it to them, so they will not try to interrogate them on such matters. You are doing this because you don't trust them, you don't trust me."

Silence met the declaration.

"And when there is no trust, people will not work with you."

"So, you would go on some kind of strike?" Asked Bright.

"If I need to, I will not work with you, if you continue to use amnestics with this team."

Bright stopped and considered. He looked at Light, searching for answers. They whispered for a few minutes their thoughts before coming to a consensus.

"We cannot allow, on our own, to stop the usage of amnestics. But we will make it known to our superior, only he can decide what to do."

Touma nodded, there was nothing more he could do. He excused himself and departed. As he left the room, Light and Bright conferred once more.

"Do you think we should administer him some amnestics?" Asked Bright.

Light contemplated the proposition for a few moments before shaking her head.

"No, we cannot." She said, continuing when she met Bright's questioning eyes. "Logic may dictate to do it, but... I feel this will turn against us."

Bright sighed.

"I guess it is time to ask the big boss."

Light nodded, she hoped this would go well.

Meanwhile, Touma was walking in the corridors of the Site, three guards surrounding him. He had been hesitant at first to confront Light and Bright, fearing they would immediately reject his demand, and even use their amnestics against him.

However, it had gone rather well. He wasn't used to lying and pressuring with words, he was more of an action man. But he knew he did not have the power to win a physical battle with the Foundation, but he had enough weight and importance to influence some decisions.

He hoped his demands would be accepted. He shook his head, he wouldn't take no for an answer, he would not have his memories taken away once more, and he wouldn't let that happen to others if he could. Moreover, he had peculiar and very selfish interests to keep this event in the memories of a certain person.

He was broken out of his thought when he saw Mishimoto come by the corner of his eye. She dismissed the guards, who acknowledged her and took some distances, leaving them a private space for discussion.

"Hello, Mishimoto-san." He greeted her with a small smile.

She replied with a nod, returned the greeting and explained the reason for this meeting.

"As you know, you have made a demand to be able to go out of the Site."

"Yes." He said, wondering if it had been rejected.

"Well." She smiled. "It has been accepted, you are officially granted a monthly sortie from Site-19. Congratulation."

"Oh, well thank you." He said, rather astonished.

"Oh, don't thank me, I didn't do a lot." She smiled.

_Mishimoto had finally finished her twenty pages long letter to demand a sortie authorisation for Touma. She finally sent it, after a few hours of writing, erasing, re-writing, re-erasing, re-re-writing, re-re-erasing and so on. After hours of normal work and writing the demand, she was exhausted. She finally fell asleep, still clothed and on her desk. Only to wake up two hours later for work._

"Didn't do anything." She repeated, the bags around her eyes pulsing.

"Are you okay, you look a bit tired?"

"Oh, nothing, I'm accustomed to that."

"Thanks anyway, do you know when I can leave?" He asked

"In a week if I remember. And you'll have an escort with you."

He hummed. That was okay, he would have preferred total freedom but, there was no way he would have better. He would be thankful for what he had, for the moment. He also wondered how the conversation had gone.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

_A few hours earlier._

"Absolutely not." Stated The Administrator, firmly.

He skimmed over the demand of that low-level scientist and psychologist. Utter nonsense! Total foolishness! This was... madness. Let an asset like Zero run outside!? Even with an armed escort?! Abso-fucking-lutely not.

And monthly, why not daily?! He continued to scroll through the infuriatingly long letter, not even reading the different arguments and pleas or other informations. He took a glass of sake, drinking the thing while scowling.

Who had written such nonsense? It couldn't be Bright or Light, he checked the name. Ah yes, Mishimoto. Promising, he had seen from the reports. He had allowed her assignment to him on the basis they were both Japanese, making any contacts smoother. Her skills capacities were also not to be overlooked and he had hope in her potential. But, if she behaved so naively, she would either need a wake-up call or be transferred elsewhere.

He frowned, she shouldn't have been able to send this to him directly, so who? He looked a bit further and found. The answer made his eyes roll. Of course, the 'Ethics Committee' would do that. He groaned and massaged his face with his fingers. They had changed over the years, going from a merciless but still respectful organization to the now, anomaly loving... losers they were. Well, maybe he had gone a bit too far. But they were still very much different from those he had known. They were a lot softer than before.

Suddenly he widened his eyes if they had transferred the message, then... Oh no, no, no, no. He had to refuse before it was too late.

He was about to dismiss the foolish demand and ask one of his assistants to redact a polite refusal when he got a conference call. There were only two organizations who could directly call him like that. The O5s or the Committee. And he looked at the first letter. C. Oh fuck. Taking a hefty swig from a prized alcohol he clicked on accept.

The face of Chairman Anagonye appeared. Chairman Anagonye was a man of African descent, with low cut crispy hair. He was old looking with black glasses framing earnest eyes. Other figures appeared, like Deputy Chairwoman Shelstrop, a middle-aged blond American woman with fair features, piercing blue eyes and Senior Executive Al-Jamil, a Pakistani woman with a certain noble attitude to her, whose eyes were sharp and attentive.

The Administrator faked a smile.

"Chairman, Chairwoman, Executive. How delightful to see you. What do you bring with you?"

Anagonye replied with a tight smile.

"Good day to you Administrator, I hope you have been well. As for what brings us here, it is very simple, the condition of SCP-0000, aka 'Imagine Breaker'."

The Administrator finally resigned to suffer the dreadful conversation. He wouldn't escape from it, despite all his power. With hindsight, he should have changed a few things to this damn Charter.

"What about it?"

Shelstrop squinted her eyes.

"You have clearly misled us, do not take us for fools."

"Indeed." Continued Al-Jamil. "You have clearly lied in section three, nine and ten you stated that the subject was granted yearly outdoor permission, you also stated he was free of movements in the Site, under armed surveillance, which is false. And even worse, you have lied on his capacities."

"We would very much appreciate if you gave us the reasons why." Finished Shelstrop.

The Administrator, inhaled, his heart beating at a steady rhythm. This confrontation was a mere chat compared to what he had endured before.

"As you know, this SCP is a goldmine of both science and potential, you must know what kind of consequences his coming has, will and can cause. It is my duty, and my utmost responsibility to ensure that the survival and security of this SCP is assured. I cannot, as a protector of humanity, let it slip in the wrong hands."

"So, you lied to the Committee, violating Article Three of the Charter, as well as the trust established between our institutions." Said Anagonye.

"It was necessary, and your recent findings only confirm that I have been too lax with my current security measures."

"Administrator, trust and truth are mandatory between us. Without it, we cannot function. Our members are screened, not only by us but by yourself. Administrator, I ask you, do not commit this mistake once more." Pleaded Anagonye.

The Administrator stopped, thinking. He knew he would be risking a lot by contradicting the Committee. It was too dangerous. For now, he would bow, but he would soon have to 'reform' the Committee and most importantly its powers.

"Very well." He faked the apology.

The three Ethics Chairs nodded, apparently satisfied. However, they weren't done.

"Oh, and about Professor Mishimoto's demand."

Oh no, oh no, oh no, no, no, no fooking hell no.

"We have decided to adopt it, after an ultra-majority vote."

Blimey. He really wished he could down a jug of whisky.

"What? Do you have any idea what you did?" Rumbled The Administrator.

"We did what was right." Said Al-Jamil.

"This is folly, the dangers-"

"We did so after careful consideration." Stated Shelstrop. "After reviewing the case numerous times, we have confirmed that a good security will keep Zero safe. Furthermore, we think that this is the best way to secure Zero's security."

"I-" The Administrator paused.

Well, after thinking about it, it was not that much of a bad idea. Wait what? Of course, it was a bad idea. But, it was the best thing to do for it, yes? Give it a bit of freedom, a small price for what he gives us. The Administrator was confused before finally agreeing, a part of him screaming no.

"Very well." He conceded.

And before he could do anything, the customary farewell rang in his ears and mouth and he was left with his thoughts.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Saeko Mishimoto flopped in her office chair, ready to get back to work before she saw something. An urgent mail. She opened it, the thing requesting her credentials and her fingerprints. And finally, she acceded to its content.

_From: Ethics Committee's Deputy Chairwoman ███████ S._

_To: Professor Saeko Mishimoto, Level 2 Researcher and Psychologist._

_Object: Committee Membership._

_Greetings, It is my utmost honour to announce you that you have been selected for membership among the Ethics Committee. I would like to..._

She was dumbstruck. The Ethics Committee had chosen her? She continued to read the letter, barely holding back her excitement.


	16. When Things Go Wrong

Touma was really hating his life, or rather his luck. He looked around. The wall near him, usually clinically white had multiple blood stains. He turned to look at the strange and mute man who accompanied him, his bright orange suit distinguished him from anything else in the Site. Touma sighed. How had it all gone downhill?

_A few hours before._

The sounds of footsteps resonated through the apparently endless corridors of Site-19. Touma walked at the middle of a procession composed of himself and three guards. He had been convoked for experimentation. Doors passed, people walked by, each time someone approached he could feel the guards tensing up.

They walked on a bridge, which crossed over a room full of Foundation research staff. The guards approached a door and opened it with a swipe of their ID cards. As they entered, they were met by another guard and one of those D-Class, dressed in orange. It appeared the guards gave some advice to the D-Class.

The D stood silent, barely nodding at the guard. The inmate was a man in his early thirties, with a shaved head, like many others. He had nothing special, except maybe for the empty eyes he possessed. They seemed to drift far away, without focusing on anything. It reminded Touma of the famous thousand-yard stare.

Touma looked at him, and the man turned, boring his seemingly soulless eyes into his. However, for one moment, it looked like there was a flicker of surprise, of total internal destabilization as if the most unexpected of things happened. However, it soon disappeared. Replaced, or rather evaporated, as absolutely nothing took its place in the eyes of the man. The empty-eyed man walked toward him but was stopped by the guards who levelled their rifles and told him to not approach him.

He stopped, his face still slack and uncaring and headed towards a large door. Touma just remarked it. It was a large steel made blast door, it was imposing and foreboding. There was a catwalk above with another guard as well as an observation bay.

A scientist was there, with a notepad. He looked at Touma and hailed him.

"Ah, SCP-0000, you are here. We can proceed." Said the scientist. "Could you go over there, with the Class-D."

Touma nodded, before asking.

"Aren't Dr Bright or Light the ones in charge of my experiment?"

However, the scientist was already far, apparently ignoring all social etiquette, and was joining the observation bay above. Touma sighed, well, he hoped this wouldn't drag on for long. He joined the group of Class-D, most looked at him with interest, wondering what kind of thing he could do. The empty-eyed man was also there, his gaze focused on him.

The blast door slowly opened. The screeching of metal and the loud noise of the mechanical door filled Touma's ear. It was soon followed by orders from the scientist.

"Test subjects are required to go inside." Came the monotone voice.

Oh yes, that was when that started to go downhill.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Josh was a normal teenager, sixteen of age. He was an average American, living in the suburbs of Colorado Springs. Nothing out of the ordinary, he went to a nearby high school. He had healthy friendships, had a crush. To be honest, he was boringly normal.

As our boringly normal character entered his house, he was greeted by his dog. After a few moments of happy interaction, consisting of gentle strokes and tickles, Josh went to his bedroom. After a week of school, it was time to unwind. He booted his computer, cracked his neck while the computer launched its different programs. He finally entered his password and was greeted by his wallpaper, black, with a symbol. Three arrows pointing inside a circle with another circle broken by squared recess.

He hesitated over which game to play. He could go with some CoD, or maybe Wolfenstein. Undecided, his cursor hovered over the different games he had, before settling on one. _SCP Containment Breach_. Oh, well. Why not. It would only be the... hundredth game? Anyway, he started the game. Clicking on launch. However, there was a small update. It lasted three seconds. He looked at the version. 2.0? Weird, wasn't the latest version 1.3.11? He shrugged, probably a mistake who would soon be fixed. He clicked on Launch, this time the game started.

He waited as the loading bar filled itself. He noticed a new message. _Destroying Il-_ But the loading screen disappeared, replaced by the main menu. He created a new game, putting the difficulty on Keter and launched it. He frowned as a message appeared. _Are you sure?_ He rolled his eyes, was that a message for newbies? He clicked on yes before the message reappeared. Irritated he clicked once more on yes and finally the game was launched.

The loading screen, however, was also changed. The usual SCPs and messages had been replaced by one thing. _SCP-0000._ Where tips or pieces of information on the said SCP should have been there was only [REDACTED] or censored.

Josh was rather surprised. However, the game quickly loaded and there he was, in a tiny cell, just waking up. The cold and white ceiling greeted him, the texture changed from most games he played, receiving a severe downgrade.

But that didn't stop him, just reminded him how he could still enjoy such an old game, even today. He waited a bit for the guards to come and followed them, still under the threat of their guns. Their meaningless conversation started to play out.

This time, however, it took an interesting turn, it was the first time Josh heard this conversation.

"Hey, you heard about this new SCP?" Asked the lead guard.

"Not sure about that, tell me more." Answered the second.

"It's a teen, eh, you know, everyone's been talking about him."

"Bah, you know I don't ask questions like that, don't like gossiping. Here is the worst place for this." Said the second guard, despite being in a game Josh could feel his eyes roll.

"Ah, you're no fun, what's life without a bit of danger?"

"A long one."

"Hahaha, you're not wrong, but just by working here we're in danger." Laughed the guard.

"Anyway." He now turned to Josh. "We're here, go over there, obey the scientists and... well you should be okay." He said pointing at 173's door.

Josh was about to continue when he noticed a new element. Another character walked by, also escorted by guards. However, that was not the strangest thing, what was disturbing was the fact that the NPC's model was designed and drawn anime style. Indeed, the sharp traits, colours and textures looked like they were taken straight out of an anime.

The Playable Character neared the strange model but stopped when the two guards pointed their rifles at him and told him to back off. Josh was very interested, he regretted playing in Keter because any change could ruin his strategy, making any re-spawn painfully long to catch up with his pre-death progress.

And he feared that restarting a game might remove this event, he had no idea if it was special or not. So be it, he decided to go along with the flow. Anyway, a game lasted three hours max. He had time.

He did everything as usual. Walking to the containment chamber. Waiting. Entering it. He also saw the new NPC and realized that he had an SCP tag. Maybe it was a new creation on the website, he'd check that out later. And as chaos broke loose, he smiled. This is where the fun begins, he thought.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Dr Bright, Light, Clef and Adams, as well as other important personnel, were in a plane. There was also another aircraft, flying a few hundred meters behind them also carrying personnel. Apparently, they were to be re-dispatched for an important mission. But the three knew something was wrong.

Such a thing did not make sense. The real reason escaped them, why would they be transported elsewhere? Clef had submitted that this might be a purge, but the two others refuted the proposal. There had been no signs of change within the ranks that would warrant their execution, whether from the established power or an internal rival.

And it would have been impossible for an enemy agency to accomplish such a feat, and if they did, there was little they could do to prevent other assassinations, their fate would be sealed.

If assassination was ruled out. What could be the cause? Then it hit Light. There hadn't been a breach in some time, even a small one. quite a feat for this Site. She recounted who she saw. And she realized it. The Keter Class Containment Specialist, and above had all been evacuated. And with the recent arrival of 079... And Meynard... Meynard was still at Site-19!

With horror, she realized what would play out. She shared her discovery with her co-workers, but there was little anyone could do. Above the cloud, above an endless desert, with no means of communication. Nothing could be done. But one thing was certain. The Administrator was gambling big.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Pressed Wanda.

The guard was shaking in his boot, he gulped hard under the cold and stony looks of both Mishimoto and Wanda.

"We were relieved, like always... I just guard it, when I'm relieved it's not my business anymore."

Due to the actual logic, Wanda and Mishimoto grunted, and let him go. The guard fled, tail between his legs. One could wonder why they were so brutally interrogating a fellow Foundation personnel. It was simple, like many things, it revolved around a certain SCP. This certain SCP should have been in his chamber. However, he was not.

And that worried the two women. Him not being there was grave, it meant someone or something had taken him out of his chamber. And Mishimoto knew all experiments had been cancelled since the research staff had been mostly evacuated, only her and Adam remained. It was strange too, those two events happening nearly at the same time.

"Professor Mishimoto!" Called a guard, slamming the door of the room they were in.

They both turned to see the newcomer.

"We have located him." He announced. "He is at SCP-173's containment."

"What!" Shouted Mishimoto. "I haven't received any orders or information about this!"

"Apparently." Replied the officer. "This comes from the Site Director."

This rang all the alarms in their heads. This was bad. Something was afoot. And that feeling was confirmed mere moments later when red lights flashed and a long ear-hurting sound rang.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

As Touma entered the containment the PA system came online, and a voice was heard.

" _Maintain eye contact with SCP-173."_ The voice ordered.

SCP-173? Wasn't that... He looked at the far end of the room. There was something against the wall. It was a tall statue, made of stone, or concrete maybe. It was beige in colour, with some paints on its head, though he could not see it entirely. He was suddenly reminded of a recent conversation had had with Wanda and two other guards. And if he remembered well, not looking at that would kill him. He did wonder what the point of it all was, but his thoughts were interrupted when the door behind failed to close.

" _Uuuh, we're having a problem with the doors..."_ Lamely came the voice from the speakers. " _Keep eye contact with SCP-173."_

Touma felt a bead of sweat roll past his cheek. That wasn't good, and his senses, honed through the years told him the same. Suddenly, the ground started to softly vibrate before shaking like there was an earthquake. Something was heard, like a roar but far greater than any in the animal kingdom could emit. This roar seemed to shake the ground, even more, Touma felt his bones vibrates. He nearly fell as the terrible earthquake continued.

Something far worse than that happened. The lights were switched off, all four spotlights shut, plunging the room in impenetrable darkness. Touma's ears only recorded the sound of stone grinding, followed by a cry, and a breaking sound. Unlike his Imagine Breaker, it sounded like something hard, like rocks. The light came on again, and his eyes widened. One man was on the ground, neck bent in a deadly and dreadful manner. He back-pedalled, seeking to flee the room. The light came off again, and he continued to back away, fast, his eyes trying to track the statue, his hand before him.

Once again light was reignited. Another body was on the ground. The statue had its eyes set on Touma. He realized he was now out of the chamber. There were numerous calls in the background for them to stay in the containment, but in his state, he did not heed them. He was now with the last Class-D, the one with the soulless eyes.

And fatally, the lights were once again shut. This time he thought it was the end. Futilely, he brought his hand forward, in a vain attempt to intercept the creature. However, as the light lit the room once again, he turned. A hail of gunfire was let loose by a guard, screaming and pleading the creature not to kill him. His words were as vain as his bullets, neither his pen or his sword could vanquish the concrete monstrosity. And as the flickering, and dooming light, plunged the room in darkness, the sound of a broken neck was heard and the thump of the body as it dropped on the ground, all of its string cut.

With this death, the killing statue disappeared, apparently satisfied with the death toll.

" _Attention all personnel!_ " Roared the speakers. _"The Site is currently experiencing Euclid and Keter Class Containment Breach. Full lockdown initiated."_

At first Touma staid still, where would he go? What would he do? The only time he had experienced such thing was during the assault, but he had Mishimoto to guide him, and then he lost himself, before running into Clara, and then Wanda. He had lost himself in the twisted corridors of 06-3, and Site-19 was even worse, its halls were unmarked and all looked alike. It would be nightmarish, no impossible to get out.

The shelters were an option, but even there he didn't know where they were. The situation seemed hopeless. But, from the corners of his eyes, he saw the man, the ones with the empty eyes starting to walk out. He saw the serial number. 9341. He called the man... After all, he could always try something.

"9341?" He hesitantly said.

The D stopped. He turned, his eyes settling on Touma, but not quite, the absentee look was still there.

"Maybe... We could work together?" While working with a sentenced criminal wasn't alluring, he had worked with technically worse.

To his surprise, the man nodded. He was apparently unwilling to speak or mute. The man turned his back once more and began to walk away, going through the door they had previously used. He didn't question the man, for Touma knew one thing, strangely, without explanation, this man seemed to know how to get out of here. And, in all honesty, he was now accustomed to such things.

Josh was very interested now. The strange, anime looking character had interacted with him. Asking for his help, without any option of acceptance he had simply replicated a nod, which worked. The NPC was now following him, the following program for the NPC was well made as he stuck near him. He wondered if the character had himself stamina and blinking bar if he hadn't that meant he could be useful against 173. But he really wasn't sure. After all, it would be too overpowered, even if 173 was easy to avoid.

And with this, he set course to fuck off Site-19 as fast and secure as possible. What he didn't know was that it wouldn't be as easy.

The lights were off, red emergency lights barely illuminated anything with their baleful colour. The Site, once royally lit, appearing clinically stark was now dark and dread filling.

Touma followed the man as he climbed down the stairs of the bridge, leading to the workspace below. There he saw the statue once more. There was also a guard who backed away quickly, looking at the statue. The already dim emergency light failed once more and the statue moved. The guard continued retreating before darkness engulfed the room, neither the SCP or its supposed jailer were seen.

The man, who had stopped began to move again. He calmly walked in the room, Touma on his wheels. Near the desks, two chairs were on the ground, they were surrounded by something dark. Touma's first thought was about blood, but no... there were cracks around like there was some kind of hole. He also heard a sinister laugh and looked around but no one was here.

This caused him to frown. What could do this? What kind of thing had managed to escape? The man stopped, looking at him, expecting him to go faster. He apologized and jogged to reach him. They continued in silence, he opened a door, pushing the red button. The opened door revealed an intersection. Left or right? He pointed at the right one. The man looked at him silently, he took that as a sign of acknowledgement.

The SCP went to open the door at the right, he stepped in another bland corridor. It had two doors, but each one was protected by a magnetic lock and scanner. Neither of them had any had to continue.

Josh was surprised. He hadn't expected the SCP to take the lead. This was going to be interesting.

Suddenly, the roar came back. Shaking the ground once again, the tremors made the entire Site shake. It was definitely caused by something, it was its movement and its roar that shook everything. Touma gulped, what kind of thing was down there, or rather climbing up to cause such a mess. The Foundation truly hosted terrifying things. He just hoped he wouldn't be confronted with that... and he just jinxed it.

Of course, he would have to fight whatever monster that was... There was little to no chance he would, one way or another, escape from such a fate. And with this low morale, he continued. He sighed, murmuring his famous 'fukoda'. They continued to delve in the Site. The unending and barely lit halls were silent. Where once stood scientists, guards, technicians and other SCP staff was now an empty husk.

At least there weren't any corpses. That reassured Touma, it was most important that no one died. This feeling was short lived as he saw a splatter of blood on one of the walls. No bodies, but still, people were hurt, he grimaced.

The situation would probably worsen. He hoped the guards and on Site teams would be able to hold and protect before the arrival of reinforcements. Just as he finished this line of thinking the speakers once again came on.

 _"All personnel are ordered to-"_ Unfortunately the sound was garbled and any words were made unrecognizable. _'"Immediately."_

Touma sighed once more. Of course, the speakers wouldn't work for this poor Kamijou. His shoulders sank.

Josh was rather surprised. The NPC acted like a human. The more precise model allowed for facial and body expressions which other regular models could not. He thought about checking it online, as even some part of the background and the Site had changed. They were now at a crossroad, and he decided to go left.

The Playable Character opened one more door, and Josh backed away, his finger deeply pressed on S. But he just saw one thing, his blink bar was nearly emptied. He sighed... This game was short lived. The screen went black, he expected the usual neck snapping and death but nothing happened. The Playable Character opened his eyes. There stood the statue, in its immobile glory. The painted face looking intently at him and the fingerless hands close to the neck. Josh was pleasantly surprised.

Apparently, 173 had a bug and he was still alive, it had already happened sometimes. When an object was between them it would stop in rare instances. However, this time there was nothing. A miracle was a miracle nonetheless and Josh was about to continue when the NPC called him.

"Please move away from him! I nearly blinked! Let's get away!"

Josh backed away, looking at the statue. Did the NPC save him by looking at the statue? Was his theory right? This was awesome! But, he realized, he had to test it. He blinked. When the eyes opened the statue was still at its place.

"Don't blink!" Shouted the NPC. "It can only move and kill us when we don't look at it!"

They both continued to back away, until the statue was out of site, as they turned in another corridor.

Touma sighed in relief. That had been a close call. He hadn't expected the statue to be so nearby, especially when considering all those closed doors. Fortunately, he had managed to keep eye contact enough time for them to get out.

"Remember, don't let it out of your sight." He reminded the man. "You can also blink one eye after the other so you can always watch it."

He showcased his advice, blinking one eye after the other, always maintaining at least one opened. The man blankly stared at him before blinking with both eyes. Touma shook his head trying to demonstrate him how to do so but, stubbornly the man repeated his action, closing both eyes.

Touma stopped. If he remembered well not all Class-Ds were what one could consider as normal. And already, with a quick look, one could tell that 9341 was not. His eyes were the unmistakable mark of mental scarring. Mental scarring... Magic and espers both had people and power which could influence the mind. Maybe this man suffered from this too?

Probably not but he could always try to find out. He told the man to come closer and slowly put his hand on his forehead.

Josh let out a surprised sound as the screen became black, not the black of the usual death. White noise dominated both his screen and speakers. He pressed the Escape key to no avail, nothing happened, the menu didn't appear.

However normalcy came once again, the darkness crept back until it disappeared from his computer's monitor. He was once again met by the sight of the SCP.

Touma slowly stepped away from the man, after touching him the man had lost all signs of life. Like he had entered a state of hibernation. No signs of breathing or beating heart. The eyes were empty as always. When he withdrew his hand, life came back to the man. His empty gaze lowered to meet him once again. They said nothing.

He walked away, Touma in his stead.

"So are you an SCP?"

The man stopped. Looked at him, he hesitated or seemed to as the lack of facial expression made his emotion impossible to read. Seconds flew slower, but finally, the man answered. He shook his head, denying it.

Touma decided not to dig further, maybe the man was traumatized and he had, with his actions triggered a related reaction. He'd let it slide for now. He accepted the man's response and decided to move on.

"Maybe we should go back there." He pointed in the direction where they had fallen face to face with 173. "Maybe it's gone."

The man nodded, and he stepped toward the crossroad they were at earlier, Touma in tow. Indeed, as they, very carefully walked in the middle of the crossroad there was no SCP to be seen. Touma went to the door they had opened before, he slowly poked his head through it and only saw another long and empty hall with a closed door at the end.

The teen gestured the prisoner to advance with him as the path was clear. Then, they went to open the other door and fell, finally into a special room. It was dark grey and looked like a checkpoint, with a cabin surrounded by bulletproof glass. There was an opening in the ceiling which led to the ventilation system. The person manning the post had maybe escaped by the ventilation.

The cabin itself was inaccessible, the door was firmly closed and protected by a passcode and very solid material. They bypassed it and chose to go at the end of the checkpoint where another door was. They pushed the button, the door behind them closed while the one before them opened. It revealed another room, which was different from any they had previously seen. There was a large walkway which looked like none of the ones in the Site. While at the left there was a large and deep recess with columns, at the right, there was a low wall with windows and a flight of stairs which led to another piece of the room downstairs. In front of them was another door.

They advanced in the room, Touma stopped when he heard some voices downstairs. He went to the window and saw two human personnel near another blast door. They were discussing how to get away. Without really thinking, he hailed them, taking their presence as friendly. They turned to look at them and began to shout something about Class-D.

However, the room went dark, the light snuffed away. Then, two sounds were heard. Two similar sounds which had become a bit too familiar for Touma's taste. When the light came back, the two men were on the ground. Their neck twisted in an unhealthy angle, the mortal kind. The statue was there. Close to the corpse, its beige stony body towering above them.

Touma saw red. This statue had done enough damage. It was time to end this. He should have done it earlier, the blood of those two men was on his hand. He slammed his hand on the open button and rushed down the stairs, 9341 behind him.

Josh was really intrigued. The NPC just rushed down the stairs, heading straight for 173. He accompanied him, hoping he wouldn't die or anything like that.

Like a fury, Touma jumped the last stairs and headed straight for the statue which had moved during the time it had been out of sight. The grotesque face was facing him, the round black eyes underlined by the red and green paint.

He ran to it, still keeping it in sight, his right hand before him. The monster stared at him with its lifeless eyes, still immobile as the object of his doom approached. The strange rules that bound it rendering him unable to flee.

However, just as Touma's hand was about to touch it, the light shut. And without any eyes on him, the SCP could now move. He panicked, throwing his hand around, hoping to touch the statue. Nothing happened. He only heard a rattling sound, like stone grinding on another surface.

He felt no hand around his neck, nor did he hear any neck snapping noise coming from his partner. The rattling sound began to get more and more distant. And then the light was on again.

The statue was nowhere to be seen, the room was empty and silent. The pale light barely illuminating it. There was a pregnant pause as the two understood the SCP hadn't killed them. Despite having the actual occasion. The thing had decided to spare them. Why was unclear.

Josh, behind his screen, was not believing it. He had rushed alongside the strange NPC, wanting to see what it would do. The anime like the character had charged at the peanut statue. And the lights were shut down, he had feared he would die but no... Inexplicably he didn't. Nothing happened. Not even the NPC was harmed. It only escaped. This was officially the weirdest game he ever plaid. He smiled. This was getting exciting.

Touma grumbled. It had escaped, he was this close to touching it! He hoped it wouldn't kill more people. The darn thing needed to be put down, no matter what the Foundation thought of it. He sneered.

"Let's get going."

He climbed the stairs, the Class-D following him, silent as ever. He reached the walkway, and as he looked realized the recess contained two sets of shelves. He went to inspect it, as they seemed to contain multiple objects. Indeed, a few things were on the shelves. Including a set of batteries, a gas-mask, two sheets of paper and a key-card. He ignored the batteries and gas-mask, pinning them as useless.

He took the card. It was yellow with the words 'Level 1' inscribed upon it. It was low level but better than anything. He pocketed it, his uniform, unlike the Class D's had pockets. He also went to read the two sheets. Each presented two SCPs, he was surprised to see secret documentation out and for all to read. Nevertheless, information was information, and it would be useful. It would be better to not have any kind of bad surprise.

The first one was about SCP-1048. It was apparently a teddy bear with a bowtie, which, to sum up, created dangerous construct similar to him. There were three mentioned but only one was described as the first one. It was similar to its creator, but this one was made of bloodied human ears and screamed when people came nearby. The screaming, while reported as ear piercing wasn't the problem, it was its aftermath. And the aftermath was terrible. Growing ears inside until he died weren't what Touma envisaged as his near future. Better avoid that one.

The other one was SCP-939. He looked at the picture and was met by a horrible reptile, its four legs were long and rather thin compared to the body they supported. It also lacked the distinctive tail of reptiles. Its maw was filled by two rows of long and pointy fangs that exceeded it. On its back were long spikes, going from the neck to the tail. Those were accompanied by long claw beginning at each of its four legs. It had no eyes, only organ pits which were sensitive to heat.

But the worse in its appearance was its skin. Unlike a reptile, which was covered by scales, this one had only uncovered pink and bloody flesh. One could see the veins pulsing beneath it as well as the different zone of white bones, fat and tendons.

However, the real horror of this SCP was its ability. The ability to devour someone, and then reproduce their voices. Calling for help in order to lure someone, and then eat them. A patient but loud predator, it could not see but still located its prey thanks to the sound they made.

Apparently, a bite had the pressure of thirty-five Mega-Pascals, and if he remembered his lessons, that was more than five thousand pound-force per square inch or a thousand more than a great white shark's bite. He had to be very careful with those. Pleas for help were to be carefully considered.

He sighed, handing the paper to 9341 for him to read. He took them, scrolling through them in seconds, before throwing them back on the floor. Touma raised an eyebrow.

"We have chances of meeting them, you should read." he said.

But the Class-D only shook his head. After all, unbeknownst to Touma, he already knew by heart the effects of all SCPs in the game and even more outside of it. But Touma took his refusal as a sign of resignation, or maybe illiteracy, the poor man was maybe mentally challenged, if he couldn't talk or read. At least he seemed to be lucky and instinctive, guiding them well in the maze that was Site-19.

"Lets' go." He said.

The man acquiesced. They both went, the darkness of the Site's corridor swallowing them whole. Touma did not notice that the Class-D had taken both the batteries and the gas-mask. And despite having no pocket, he was carrying them, but they were unseen by Touma.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

The Site shook as the alarms blared. Wanda gripped Mishimoto's coat and pulled her toward her while shouting to a lone guard to watch out. He didn't hear her, the sound of roaring and shaking covering the sound of her voice. From the ceiling came a metal pipe who crashed on the guard, crushing his head, transforming it in a bloody mess of bone, blood and brain matters.

Mishimoto retched at the sight and even Wanda was slightly deranged by view of the man scattered on the floor. But they had to continue to push. They first headed for the safety bunkers where most non-combat personnel would go. Wanda wanted to secure Mishimoto before going to secure the Site and pull Touma out of any trouble. The plethora of security personnel was in disarray. The elites had been sent away, a good number of guards had died in the first minutes of the breach. They had been ambushed or savagely attacked by the different SCPs, their outbreak had been unexpected.

Other guards had, as instructions ordered, accompanied the non-combat personnel to the safety bunker and stayed with them to ensure security should panic arise or if any SCP had infiltrated the bunker with them. There were also those outsides, securing the landing site for Nine-Tailed Fox, as well as making sure that no SCP escaped the Site. That left the Site widely unguarded, the halls were either empty or had corpses in them.

"Dammit, what was that?" She said as the tremor and roar stopped.

"Nothing good." Groaned Mishimoto. "Let's go."

Wanda acquiesced. Mishimoto and she began to run through the Site. Finally, after nearly losing themselves, they finally came to one of the bunkers. As they arrived at the final corridor before the bunker, shouts were heard. Guns fired, and something let out a primal roar but not as violent as the one before.

The shouts and screams began to ring out. Wanda took out her side-arm, her rifle being in the armoury.

"Stay here." She ordered Mishimoto.

She crept discreetly to the bunker. Her ears are were assaulted by the cries of dying men and the sound of squelching. She shuddered, those sounds... They reminded her of the forest. She gulped before peeking from her corner. She retreated as a broken corpse flew, crashing on the wall in front of her. She peeked once more and saw the cause of all of this.

It was giant, truly, it dwarfed any humans and was twice as tall as some of the personnel, a giant ape. Its arms were long, reaching lower than its knees. It was covered head to toe in a thick brown fur, huge paws, the size of her torso, swung in the air, catching a man. He began to scream. More bullets. Still nothing. Then, the thing brandished the still screaming guard, before violently pummelling it to the ground. The tiles cracked as the broken body was slammed into it a second time before being used as a projectile, knocking out another guard.

Wanda shivered, images of the murderous mass of flesh of that day came back, images of ripped limb and bodies came back to her, crashing on her mental state like a tidal wave, breaking it. Her breath hastened, just like her heartbeat. Beads of sweat began to roll down her face.

She looked at the massacre, trembling fingers trying to grasp her side-arm, but failing. Another man had his head crushed, reduced to a pulp against the hard ground. The beast roared as the painful bullets began to dig in his skins. However, the three remaining guards were too few and too terrified to kill it.

Two of them dropped their weapons, one making a run to the exit where Wanda and Mishimoto were, another for the bunker door, begging and banging on the door to no avail, while the last one lost any semblance of sanity or self-preservation and charged the thing with his knife, miraculously managing to stab it deeply in its thigh. The giant ape-human growled, before sending the fool flying with a punch.

The other ones did not fare any better. Mishimoto was trying to shake Wanda out of her panic attack, trying to calm her softly, being rough or abrupt would only worsen the situation. But as the last man, the begging one, was screaming she heard one thing, '1000'. That was probably the name of it, ah, useless anyway! Gritting her teeth, she doubled her effort to save Wanda.

"Hey there, it's Mishimoto, we should go, come, let's go." She tried to pull Wanda but she wouldn't budge.

"SCP-4800-JP... Walker...Help..." Muttered the soldier, mechanically.

"Hey, hey it's not 4800, it's 1000, come on, we have to be elsewhere."

She saw something changes in Wanda's eyes. Her breathing pattern became more regular and the trembling ceased.

"SCP-1000..." Began Wanda, with a white voice.

Mishimoto began to sweat as the sound of footsteps came closer. She took a quick peek and saw that 1000 had heard them and was slowly shuffling toward them. Its grey face was a parody of humanity, reminding of a gorilla but with a human's twisted grin, its two small sunk eyes glistening with an animalistic glee.

"... Keter Class... Hostile... Very dangerous. Little intelligence. Do not engage without armed support." Finished Wanda, her tone coming back to normal.

"Yeah, let's get out of here! Or maybe we can ambush it later!" Tried Mishimoto with a last-ditch effort.

Something snapped. Instead of crippling fears, plans and objectives filled Wanda's head. It would seem her drilled military instinct, coupled with Mishimoto's calming voice, managed to overcome her trauma.

"Yeah, that might work." Smiled Wanda. "Let's go!"

The two began to run away just as 1000 went into the corridor, bending its back, as it was too tall to walk upright.

"Don't worry I have a plan!" Yelled Wanda, running as fast as she could.

She had to slow down, as Mishimoto was lagging behind a bit, not being a trained soldier. But the sounds the SCP made gave her wings, reminding of her possible demise.

"What's your -huff- plan?" She asked Wanda, breath short.

"Still working on it!" Answered the sergeant.

Great. Thought the scientist.

"Okay, got it, it's foolproof!"

Oh. Maybe she had underestimated her.

They arrived at a workroom with some desks on the right side and a tall elevation on the right, where there were some lockers.

"Go there!" Wanda indicated the end of the room, where the exit door was to Mishimoto.

She raised an eyebrow but the Englishwoman was persistent and she accepted, as the sounds of the SCP got closer. She threw a look at Wanda who sent her a weak thumbs up. Wanda herself climbed to the elevation, which was about three meters up.

And as the monster emerged from the corridor, hunched with a grimace on its face, Mishimoto understood her plan, her eyes widening. The giant ape had its attention set on her, and only on the supposedly alone weak prey.

And he did not notice it until too late. Gripping her virtual guts in her two hands Wanda ran to the edge of the elevation, jumped on the guardrail and using the momentum jumped a second time, this one on the hunched beast's neck. Her knife buried itself in its neck, and the beast howled. Her ears rang from the pained cry. She took hold on its neck with her free hand as the SCP shook himself wildly, trying to make her fall.

Twisting the knife into the wound, she managed to propel herself on its head, gripping tightly on its fur. She took out her bloody knife, hoping to pierce its eyes, but, a giant hand caught her, ensnaring her torso and tearing her from the brown fur.

She coughed from the sheer pressure applied on her, her ribs felt like they were about to crack. The beast was about to slam her on the ground, like the other. However, he released its attention from her when Mishimoto fired at it. She had closed the distance and was unloading her sidearm nearly a meter away in the head. The thick skull and skin, unfortunately, did not surrender to the scientist's sidearm.

That moment, those few seconds of inattention allowed Wanda to use her, free arms. Drawing her arm back, she exhaled and aimed. And launched. The knife burrowed itself in the primate's right eye to the hilt. But not deep enough to completely cut into its brain.

Apparently, the pain was enough for it to drop her. Wasting no time despite her painful and bruised ribs she took her handgun and rushed to the hunched beast, who was clasping its pierced eye. A furry hand tried to wipe her but she avoided it, jumping to the side, the appendage crashed on pieces of furniture, sending them flying.

In its fury he sent another fist at her, which she narrowly dodged, she did not relent, however, firing a few bullets at the ape's head. It tried to take another swipe at her, she jumped back to avoid it but by doing so stumbled on a chair on the ground. Her back met the white tiles with a resounding sound, the thing smiled. She gritted her teeth and fired her entire clip at the monster, which he shrugged off with its twisted smile. The thing bent over her, jaws coming to snap above her. The blood from his pierced eye dripped on her.

A cry was heard, he turned to take a look at it, but it was too late. Bearing a filled metallic drawer, Mishimoto charged screaming at the ape, it tried to swipe her aside like any others but it was too late, she was already close. With a powerful swing, she hit the handle of the knife burying it even further in the SCP's skull. 1000 roared in pain and agony as his brain was pierced by the steel.

He backed away, roaring, screaming, hands on his eye, digging the blade even deeper. His arms then flailed around as he hit a wall, swiping left and right without any coordination, finally it stumbled, fell and after a few moments of twitching stopped.

Wanda took a deep breath, exhaled deeply, and collapsed on the floor, panting. Mishimoto went to the corpse, lightly prodding it with her drawer. The beast did not move, blood leaking from its fatal wound. She stepped back in disgust and went next to Wanda.

The two women looked at each other before bursting out in laughter. Instead of a beast's roar, the room was filled with the laughter of the two, joy of surviving and of the sheer lifting of the tension was exhilarating.

"Hehe, not bad Saeko." Chuckled Wanda.

"You weren't too bad yourself Wanda, never thought I'd kill a yeti one day." Said Mishimoto with a smile.

A few moments passed as the two finished laughing and finally recovered their bearings and senses.

"Well." Began Wanda, the last trace of mirth disappearing. "We should go."

Mishimoto nodded, helping the sergeant on her feet. Wanda went to the corpse, grimaced, pushed the head a bit. A very small part of her knife's handle was sticking out of 1000's eye socket. She grimaced before putting her foot on its head, took the visible part of the handle and pulled. A squelching sound was heard before a geyser of blood stained her fatigues, legs and arms. She had pulled her knife, at the price of her clothes, and was now conflicted about whether or not it was worth it. But she had no other melee weapons, so this sacrifice had been necessary.

And thus, the two departed, with a sour look, the stench of a Bigfoot blood accompanying them as an act of vengeance from the dead SCP.


	17. The Breach

The Administrator was typing mindlessly on his computer, not writing anything of sense, the chatter of a 24/7 international news channel in the background. Snippets reached his ear, something about government corruption and labour laws, or whatever politics were up to these days. He shut it off, fingers rapping against his desk. He was waiting for word from the success of his operation.

Normally, according to the latest report, it should have already begun. Then, one of his phones, an old rotary grey one rang. He smiled, picked up the phone and as he heard the word his smile got wider.

" _Operation is well underway, keeping watch on targets."_

"Perfect, oh, and one last thing. Make so that Meynard encounters one of our rougher residents."

" _Of course sir. I will report to you when it is done."_

"Excellent, Godspeed." He finished the conversation.

As he put down the phone, he felt some doubts re-surface. All in all, that seemed like a very bad plan... so why did he enact it? His thought dwelled on that... All of this... multidimensional chess was due to this damn Committee. It restrained his movements too much... Ethics, bah! There was a time when he would obey such guidelines. But now...

No, no, he shook his head. He had always been faithful to them, or at least when the situation was not dire. And he would continue. He would only transgress them when it was necessary. But still, he now had to make use of such tricks to meet his end, his grip around the Committee had to be tightened.

But beyond the Committee, he had to do that... It was a fact.

His thoughts settled on Saeko Mishimoto, the little unimportant shrink had now transformed into a rather significant pawn in his political game against the Committee. They had only offered her a place because she was near SCP-0000, and he couldn't just send her away or kill her. They would either oppose or condemn him.

He had to win her over, or at least mitigate her effect on the boy, who knew what she could spout in his ear... As such, his mind began to work a way to stop Saeko Mishimoto, another tool in a political game far above her.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

_"As far as we know there is no organized resistance inside Site-19, but the personnel_ _are_ _in relative safety. However, pretty much every skips are out of their damn containment."_

The info, coming from speakers, was welcomed with a calm silence by multiple soldiers. Outside of the helicopter, there were in, two more of the same transports flanked them, the roaring sound they produced dampened by their isolating headphones.

Those soldiers were part of the Mobile Task Force Epsilon-11 'Nine-Tail Fox', sometimes referred to as 9TF, specialized in the re-containment of SCPs. They were trained in stopping Containment Breach and to catch runaway SCPs. They were dressed in heavy grey combat armour over a brown skin-suit, with grey gasmasks featuring red lenses.

"Been some time since ol' 19 was breached, eh?" Said one of them.

"Could've been a bit longer for what it's worth." Shrugged another.

"I really don't wanna get chased by 106." Moaned a third.

"Eh, you've been lazing around too much, might get your fat ass moving!"

This drew a round of laughter from the MTFs, as they felt the helicopter sway forward, going to meet the ground.

" _Gentlemen, get ready for hell."_

"Into the gates of hell!" Shouted a soldier.

"And back from them!" Roared the others.

The helicopter shook as it touched the ground, before its back door was opened, letting the soldiers disembark as light flooded the transport. They ran outside, meeting a contingent of Foundation Site guards, installing various defences, such as sandbags and the H.I.D turret. Which looked like a giant flashlight mounted on the frame of a flak cannon. They were in the middle of a landing pad, with a road nearby and the massive entry of the Site.

"Second Officer of Security Nguyen." Said a man in combat gear, with a white beret.

The MTFs snapped to attention, except for their commanding officer, a man in ranger fatigues, with a bonnie hat.

"Commander Brint, where's the Chief Officer?"

"We don't know, he is considered MIA, but I table on KIA."

"I see, code of threats?"

"At least all except Superblank and White, possibly Gray. We are at AR-400."

"Coldsilver?"

"Probably not, but not a hundred percent sure."

The Commander hummed and nodded. That meant they had to worry about pretty much everything except for an undefinable threat, codenamed super-blank, and outside attacks, codenamed white. However, they could worry about traitors, indestructible being, mass aggressors and destructors, biochemical threat, memetic threat and all that kind of 'will kill you because it can' kind of shit. And they also had to worry about traps and tesla gates inside, courtesy of Automated Response 400 'Super Cooker'.

The ground shook, a roar could be heard, muffled by possibly kilometres of earth, stone, concrete, and steel, but still powerful.

"So, we deal with the big lizard itself." He whispered.

"Well, avoid engaging it, it is useless, we will take care of him."

"Sometimes, I wonder if the pay is worth it."

"We all do, but every time we remember we are not doing this for money."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, it's for the good of humanity, but it would be really cool if the good of humanity could stop being threatened every three seconds."

Nguyen barked with laughter.

"One day Commander, maybe one day. Come on, let me introduce to some of the changes made in the Site." He said, turning his back and walking away.

And so MTF Epsilon-11 prepared to enter Site-19.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

The old intelligence observed. With what could barely qualify as a gaze, as it could only observe through cameras, was coolly focused on the strange being. The human had garnered its interest ever since his encounter with SCP-173 in the storage room.

The old intelligence had made sure that the statue could kill him and his companion. But unfortunately, for a reason that still escaped its cold calculation and logic, it had decided to run away. This behaviour hadn't been anticipated.

Anyway. This human was a wrench in his calculations. He had to be dealt with. The statue was now unreliable. Different plans came to life, statistics were calculated, risks were accounted for... But nothing concrete came out of it. The human was too much of a wildcard. It would need more data to successfully extrapolate an efficient way to eliminate this threat.

But maybe… It looked through different cameras. With everything running amok in the Site... Maybe the threat would be eliminated without its intervention. And even then, it could always give it a little nudge. It watched in satisfaction as a being, a humanoid in black, covered in acid, tore through multiple sections of iron to take a shouting human in its dimension.

If the old intelligence had a face it would have smiled. Vengeance was sweet, even for 079. But this was short-lived. It felt something poke in its hold over the Site's control. Humans. It knew it would lose eventually, but it could still give the human a good fight. And so, battle raged for the virtual control of Site-19.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Eh! What is this?!" Asked Touma.

He had opened a door, revealing a corridor going to the right, before him was a screen who showed an empty room flooded by a red light. That was problematic, he looked around and saw a small panel.

 _Prolonged exposure is fatal._ A skull was underneath the inscription. What was fatal? He turned to see 9341 with a gas mask on. His brows raised but before he could ask anything, the strange man opened the door and broke into a sprint. Just as he stepped in the room it was flooded by thick black gas. In a moment the man had crossed the room and was by the other side.

The door was shut and the gas dissipated, the ventilation dispersing it. So that was the fatal part, thought Touma. His shoulder sagged, they could have maybe gone around the thing but apparently, the man didn't care a bit. He looked around, trying to see if there was another gas mask, but none could be seen. He sighed. Guess there was no escaping it.

He pressed the button, inhaled, and ran as fast as he could. The gas burned. Like tear gas, he felt his skin, his eyes, his nostril, and mouth flare up and take fire. He coughed as the cold fire engulfed him. Tears started to stream down his face as he ran. While he didn't breathe, he could still feel the dark smoke filling his lung.

The room, obscured by the smoke barely let him see the exit, sometimes it disappeared, drowned by the thick volatile substance. He felt his muscles tire as the oxygen was replaced with gas, and his vision started to get fuzzy. He fell on the ground, short of the exit, just in front of 9341 but before he could do anything the door closed. That should have stopped the gas from coming, but instead, it kept coming, a valve must have broken during Touma's passage.

As such, while the doors were closed the lethal smoke still filled Touma's lungs. However, the man still had the intelligence to open the door, and so with a last-ditch effort, Touma hauled his burning body out of the room, finally escaping the clutch of the black substance. He fell on his back, coughing for all he was worth.

Josh was rather shocked. He hadn't expected the Non-Playable Character to just walk in and out without any trouble whatsoever, but the truth was that he now had a wheezing and near dead anime drawn character. It might be a bunch of unfeeling code but he still felt kinda bad about it, since he himself didn't get any of the effects of the exposure. It must have been pretty rough in there considering the NPC was still coughing his lungs out, face and eyes red.

After a few moments, Touma got up, still croaking a bit but able to continue the unpleasant journey in Site-19. He got up and found himself face to face with the man. He was about to... ask what the hell he did when he realized the man was looking down. His eyes dropped and he saw the gasmask laying on the ground.

The Class-D retreated, clearly letting him take the mask. He crouched, taking the mask in his hands, it was a bit heavy and made of rubber. He looked at the man who nodded in encouragement. He smiled. The man clearly had problems, it was not his fault, shouting at him would resolve nothing. He uttered a sincere thanks and slung the gas mask on the top of his head, ready to be deployed.

And the two departed. One feeling guilty about letting suffer, what he thought a clump of lines of code, and the other guilty of nearly shouting at a poor mentally unstable man. Both of them not knowing how wrong they were.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

A giant claw crashed against the iron, leaving a huge dent and some holes in it. The second tore through the iron wall, then other claws came to push aside the layers, revealing another wall. The thing growled. It had already torn through multiple walls.

From its back, where a long forked and barbed tail was, a dozen eyes laid their cold pupil on the observation bay above. People were running around with a figure in a billowing white coat giving order above the confusion. The thing smiled. If the walls wouldn't work, the windows would.

It stopped attacking the half-torn wall and went to the one at the other end. 682 sunk its claws in the iron and began climbing, the long appendages rasping against the material. The maw twisted into a terrifying mimic of a smile.

I'm coming doc. Thought the creature as it decreased its size a bit.

Doctor Dragomir was trying to get the situation in order. His aides were panicked, and his superior, Senior Researcher Jung, the specialist concerning the containment of SCP-682 had been evacuated earlier today. Pretty much everyone was trying to either escape, do something or pray.

Dragomir roared for calm, and the people stopped. He was the senior here and the highest ranked researcher.

"What is the status of the valves?"

The valves were the only barrier preventing thousands of liters of acid to be versed into SCP-682's containment, which would stop him from breaking out as he would be too busy regenerating his rapidly dissolving self to escape.

Nobody responded. They were mostly ghostly white or very pale. He barked once more for an answer but began to sweat when one of the guards pointed behind him. He gulped. And very slowly turned around.

He didn't have the time to react as two tentacles, jutting from the monster's maw, pressed on the window broke them and took him. He went crashing against one of the still intact windows. Dazed, with various part bleeding and broken, but still alive. He could only watch in mute horror and powerlessness as the decaying lizard smashed his way in the observation post.

Great God. The damn thing shrugged off bullets and grenade like it was nothing. A guard, who had apparently seen too many movies rushed to the monster where he was promptly caught and snapped in two by the frightening maw. However, he had pulled the pin of his grenade before being gnawed in half. A powerful explosion shook the monsters head, stopping him for a few moments. The personnel stopped. Hoping for a miracle. But to their fatal disappointment, the thing only chuckled, a deep, croaking sound.

And the carnage continued. Blood, limbs, organs, the room was trashed by the reptile, which after so long could finally unleash its rage. The final scientist was sent through the window crashing against the iron wall before dropping in the dissolving liquid. Luckily, she was already dead.

Finally, Dragomir saw the monster approach. He had already prayed and knew all efforts would be futile.

"J-.. ere...-s h-...?" Croaked 682.

Dragomir stood still, not understanding what the monster said.

" _ **Jung, where is he?"**_ Repeated the thing.

"F-..ar, far from he...re." Answered Dragomir, at least he would die with the satisfaction that the monster wouldn't complete all of his goals, well he hoped.

The thing groaned when it saw his smile. But soon Dragomir's smile was transformed into a painful scream. Tearful eyes saw acid being dropped on his leg. And it laughed. It laughed as he screamed. Finally, tired of the gurgled scream in its 'ears', which began to tire 682's patience, the lizard dropped a good litre of acid directly on Dragomir's face, killing him near instantly.

Now. To kill the Disgusting. The Disgusting had lingered too much in this place. It was time to end it. But first, have a little revenge.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Touma and 9341 were running, again. The screeching began to get unbearable but soon they had crossed to the other side of the corridor and the door shut, the screeching stopping with it.

They had just escaped a small teddy bear. Nothing to be afraid of normally. But this one was made of bloody human ears, and started screeching like... pretty much nothing, a plane came close to the level sound the damn thing made.

Anyway, Touma was rather glad to not be growing ears inside him. They were now in another corridor, which of course looked like all the others. Touma sighed, of course, there would be no indication or any signs to guide him. They went to the next door.

The corridor was very different from the others. In the middle stood a strange metal contraption with rods and Tesla coil. This was a Tesla gate, drawing its name from its coil and the fact that it produced electricity. There was a yellow line on the ground, which showed the area the motion detector activating the gate operated.

Touma had heard Wanda made a comment about them, saying they were lethal and that there had been incidents before with them. Suddenly the door of the other side opened, Touma got in position ready to fight it out or to run. However, it was a young scientist that was running toward him. She was looking behind, afraid but unable to see the upcoming danger.

Touma's body sprung on his own. With a mad dash, he managed to jump through the Tesla gate as it was being activated. His arms wrapped around the scientist's waist, sending her to the ground. She hit the white tiles violently, but safe.

"Are you alright?" He asked the woman, disengaging from her.

"Y-yes, thank you, I didn't see where I was going."

"No problem." He assured her. "Need any help?"

"No, no, don't worry I know where I have to go, I'll be safe."

Her mouth dropped as she noticed their uniforms

"You are Class-D?"

She hadn't expected any Class-D to aid her, but rather to kill her or ignore her at best. They were among the lowest scum on this lowly earth, people for which death sentences were invented and who hurt society. Not the kind of people to risk their lives for another usually, especially one of their jailors.

"Ah, well he is." Said the boy pointing at the ever stone-faced 9341 "I'm an SCP." he scratched his head, laughing sheepishly.

This did nothing in alleviating the woman's suspicion, actually, that worsened the situation. Class-Ds were one thing but SCPs? That was even worse. None could really say what went through their heads, what kind of thing their brain, or consciousness could form.

Touma sighed as he saw the fear in the scientist's eye. No matter what he would do he would still be treated like that uh? But he had one thing to ask before he could go.

"What were you escaping?"

The question caught the scientist off guard.

"I-I... SCP-173..."

Touma's jaw and fists tightened. Retribution had to be dealt, swiftly.

"Thanks, take care." He said, ready to depart.

But before he could leave the corridor the woman asked.

"Who are you?"

He hesitated, giving her his name might mean trouble for her, one could never know with the Foundation.

"SCP-0000."

And they, 9341 and he left the woman alone. She pondered a bit about this SCP, he had become famous recently... Maybe he wasn't all that bad.

Josh was pretty astounded. No alright, he was totally surprised. He really hadn't expected such an action from the N-... SCP-0000. The scientist was always supposed to die, and that kind of speed and move that Zero's pulled was brand new and impressive. His character couldn't go that fast, neither could he jump or tackle people like that.

He grinned. Okay, that warranted even more interest than before, what kind of unique interaction could the NPC pull off now, it looked like the devs had gone all out on this one. Too bad he could engage the conversation himself.

"Now..." He looked at the NPC who sported a determined look. "Ready to go statue hunting?"

Well... that sounded hella interesting. He mimicked a nod, apparently triggering like always a successful positive reaction.

"Let's go."

Josh followed Zero, keeping close to its anime drawn frame. For some time, the walk was uneventful for a few minutes, just more doors. But at a crossroad, Touma heard the noise of stone dragging against the ground.

Without wasting any time, he went to the source, he was close to his goal, he could sense it. At that point, fuck whatever reason the Foundation was against killing SCPs, no it wasn't killing. That statue wasn't human. It was just a killing machine, it was like a golem.

With this in midn, he rushed ahead, shouting to 9341 to follow him. He broke into a sprint, the Class-D in tow. Opening doors after doors, he did not notice that the man lagged behind, because of the limited stamina bar, something that Touma would have never thought would exist outside of video games, this was real life after all.

And then... finally. The statue was in the middle of the corridor Touma had just entered, its 'face' toward him. Touma smiled, wickedly, time to pay he thought. He advanced toward the statue, which stood motionless.

But, Touma, in his usual set of misfortune had one just at this moment. All in all, this was not important, not really even worthy to be called a misfortune, it was just an event that happened to everyone on Earth. Really, just dust in the eyes.

"I'm going to blink." Announced Touma.

But his words fell on no ear, as 9341 was still too far to hear him, having been outpaced swiftly. Touma blinked. The statue moved, but it was too late. Instead of going for the kill, it escaped or tried to. It arrived at the door, short of opening it and bidding its silent farewell to Touma.

The human SCP did not think twice and rushed to touch 173 with his hand, not even thinking about the absence of 9341, who just happened to arrive at the moment.

And Touma touched 173. The concrete broke. Piece by piece, the epicentre being Touma's hand. The statue crumbled. Touma sighed, that was one thing dealt with.

From the remain of the statue, something jumped. Dark and blobby in form it began to jump around the room, screeching all the way. Touma startled, tried to grasp it, stop it, but it was useless.

The thing, 173 he guessed, zeroed toward 9341 who received it in its face. But that did not stop there the dark mass entered 9341 body. After it entered in its entirety the Class-D was motionless, unable to move as Touma had its eyes locked on it.

"Hey, get out of there!" He ordered, to no avail.

He rushed to touch it, but the light flickered off, before going on. 9341's corpse had already escaped, but he was still in sight, in the middle of running. Touma ran to it, trying to expel the thing from 9341's body, but once again, he failed as the lights were shut. This continued several times, 9341 was much faster than him in the dark. He cursed, what was going on with the damn light.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Come on!" Groaned a man.

"Nearly got him!" Said another.

"Come on kid!" Encouraged another.

They were currently on the CCTV, witnessing the exchange between Touma and SCP-173. They were currently in a cyberwarfare centre, equipped with some of the finest technology humanity could assemble.

Those people, known as Mobile Task Force Alpha-5 'Keyboard Warrior'. As their name suggested, their main task was to neutralize hostile Artificial Intelligence or other computer programs. As of now, they were currently engaging in small skirmishes over the control of Site-19's mainframe with SCP-079. Evidently, the old intelligence had been giving some hertz, it was much more powerful and quick than the last time they had engaged it.

Currently, the fight was over the control of the lights of a certain corridor. The CTF tried to keep them on, while the machine wanted them shut. Who won would decide over the issue of the fight, or rather chase between SCP-173 and SCP-0000.

This was getting frustrating. Each of their attempts was repelled soon after. The leader, Troy by his nickname, decided to try something else. He ordered his colleagues to continue their effort over the control of the light control system, cracking the different codes 079 was putting in place whilst trying to place their own.

Troy knew it was useless to continue stubbornly on one front. Launching his programs, he managed to access the electric power distribution. First, he set many firewalls and codes, enough to last a minute under 079's pressure before targeting the power distribution of 079's chamber, of course, he was stopped, none of their Trojan horse could break through the security measures.

However, his second, 'Kasper' had also successfully established a backdoor in the connection between 079 and the mainframe, forcing him to form a third line of defence 079, despite being an AI had a limited amount of Hertz, reducing its capacities of reaction.

Meanwhile, CTF Alpha-5 had multiple personnel and more powerful auto-programs. And soon, 079 realized it had to abandon this fight. It didn't have the capacity to resist 'AI Killer', not for this small fight. And so, in a last-ditch effort, he managed to neutralize some of the auto programs, erasing their coding, but letting the light control vulnerable. He tried to take them back but it was too late, this section's light control had been lost.

079 considered it only as a setback. Something else would take care of that human. Now he needed to take care of the other pesky humans by himself.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Teeth creaking, legs running and fist tightened, Touma was chasing 173, who had inhabited the body of 9341. The lights were always flickering when he nearly touched the possessed Class-D. Multiple times already, the scared entity slipped through his fingers, sometimes quite literally, only a hair's breadth away from being purged. A worrying thing was that piece of concrete was growing around 9341's limb. Should it recover the man, Touma could not tell what would happen to him.

But this time, wouldn't be like the others. Touma, this time touched 9341's immobile body. That surprised him enough to stumble, taken by his momentum. The piece of concrete fell apart, and the screeching from before, one of deep and primal fear rang through the hall.

But Touma was prepared, Imagine Breaker at the ready. His hand caught the blob as it was trying to get away. The sound of shattering glass replaced the shrill cry, before, finally, silence settled.

Outside, the CTF erupted in cheers. Neutralizing 173 was perhaps one of the Foundation's greatest challenge. Dear comrades, friends, and kin had been avenged. Hundreds of souls whose killer finally died experienced the despair they had felt.

Touma disentangled himself from 9341's limp body, taking a deep breath. He eyed the orange-clad man, he hoped he was fine.

Josh was furious. No really. He was catching up with Zero when he saw the destroyed remnants of SCP-173. He was flabbergasted. A new SCP? One who could destroy 173? What was this, a ? He was a lot less amused when something black crashed against him, giving him the black, death screen. Without any text whatsoever.

He sighed, he wouldn't get beaten like that. No! He wouldn't! That was a matter of honour now, he was a gamer to the heart. And letting such thing slip from his grasp would be a stain on his record.

As such, he booted up the game once more. Version 2.0. Right, that was it, he launched the game, which was pretty long compared to before. Nevertheless, it finally loaded. He clicked on New Game since he couldn't save his latest game. However, this time the game proposed him to continue his previous game.

He didn't even question the thing and clicked on yes. The screen turned to black, a sound of breaking glass resounding before the broken symbol of the Foundation appeared. A loading bar below, which progressed slowly.

Meanwhile, in Site-19, a man opened his eyes, and saw, truly by himself for the first time in years. He felt his body, tears streamed down his face. Oh yes, sweet joy, finally, he truly lived.

He had felt earlier that the control upon his body had greatly lessened, but he had failed to capitalize on the action. But this time, there was nothing to force on, this time, by magic, he was free!

He turned his head to see his saviour, who was on his back, contemplating the ground. The movement made Touma look at him. He expected the stone-faced, dead-eyed Class-D but he found himself before a tearful and emotional man. Something had probably snapped the man from his mental state. What he didn't expect was to be engulfed in a hug, accompanied by shaking 'thank you'.

He froze for a bit before slowly tapping the shaking man on the back. He was accustomed to that kind of behaviour, though from the other gender.

In 'Keyboard Warriors' centre, a member had a small drop of blood running down from his nose.

"Please, just don't write smut out of it." Asked the leader.

"No promise."

In the bowels of Site-19, a patting Touma was waiting for the man to finish cleaning off years of frustration. Finally, the man stopped and moved away, to Touma's relief as it was becoming rather awkward. The silence that followed wasn't much better though. They were silent, 9341, looked away with his red eyes.

"Sorry about that." He spoke for the first time.

Touma looked surprised, he had expected him to still be mute, but in a few minutes, the man had completely changed, maybe he should have seen it coming.

"...No problem," he answered, the awkward silence broken, the man continued.

"It's just been so long... so long..." He trailed off. "So long that I have been alive."

"What do you mean?" Asked Touma, did he just resurrect someone?

"This body of mine... it's been years and years since I... I... I couldn't control it! I saw... I felt... But I was trapped... So many deaths... so many lives..." He muttered, voice extinguishing.

"Trapped?" That reminded him what Karim had done to him back at Site 06-3, but deaths? Lives? Did that guy relived his life? Like in Groundhog Day? He remembered that time Othinus had killed him. He had lost the count but the hundreds of thousands were a safe estimation.

"Yes... I had to watch and feel myself... I saw and did things... Sometimes I lived at multiple times, sometimes hundreds or thousands of lives at the same time, different times and places, but always here... always in this damned Site. Oh god... Living and dying at the same time..." The man put his head in his hands.

Touma could only feel sorry for the man, he already considered his body possession a very deranging event, years of it would have made anyone go mad. Well, he seems in a rather good state... for the moment.

9341 remembered, oh, how he remembered. His entire body, not one part of it had been free from pain. Neck? Snapped. Bones of all kind? Broken. Flesh? Eaten, melted or grilled by electricity. Organs? Operated on by a robed weirdo. Face? Sucked on and melted by a mask which... possessed him, well he would die before that. And the other parts? Shot by soldiers or hurt in a number of ways he did not remember. He even had been nuked for G-. No, there were no gods.

Or if there were, they were really asshole-ish.

"A-anyway, thank you... I owe you my life... I don't know how you did it... But thank you for saving and for avenging myself and so, so many others... and saving me and hundreds of others... Thank you." Declared the man.

Touma shrugged, as always it was the right thing to do, there was no need for praise, though it was always nice. But the man wasn't done.

"Let me repay you, I'll help you leave the Site. I've done it so many times that even though every corridor change, I can still get us out in no time and alive."

Touma smiled.

"Alright, let's get out."

"Never been so happy to hear words in my life."

And as such, among the grim corridors, two human anomalies walked once more, the once-weird duo was now a solid partnership, and tacitly they swore to each other they'd let nothing get in their way.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Lock and loaded."

"We're going in." Said the soldier on his radio.

"Roger that. Ask Alpha-5 to open the doors if you can't, alright?"

"Got you." He replied.

The elevator began to descend, it was cramped, filled to the brim with Nine-Tailed Fox operators. The other entry was also being entered by the re-containment team.

Alright, you pansies you know the drill and y'all know the briefing the captain screamed in our ears. That wasn't a question."

"Lieutenant, yes, lieutenant."

"Spick and span! Now let's get to work." He said as the elevator finally stopped and the door opened.

He walked to the blast door which guarded the inner Site. He whipped out his card and swiped it over the detector. To his surprise, it actually opened. He had expected some kind of resistance or 079's usual shenanigans but apparently, the computer had abandoned this part of the Site.

"Alright, this is where the fun begins."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

" _Mobile Task Force Epsilon-11 designed 'Nine-Tailed Fox' has entered the facility. All personnel are advised to seek and stay in shelters. The unit will start escorting out personnel when all of the SCPs have been contained_ _once again_ _."_ The distorted voice of the announcer rang through the Site;

Touma looked at the man.

"Looks like help arrived."

But 9341 shook his head.

"No, or maybe for you, but those men will shoot me on sight."

Touma frowned.

"They wouldn't, not if you are with me."

The Class-D sighed and ran his hand over his shaved head.

"Listen, I can't guarantee it, they were always trigger happy. But... we can always part way..."

Touma shook his head.

"No, we'll get out of here together or we won't. I won't abandon you."

"How noble... Too noble for your own good."

The SCP laughed.

"I've been told that already. Now, let's head out..." Touma trailed off, before scratching his head. "What's your name?"

9341 paused. He himself did not know, but he had seen it multiple time, on one badge, which had, he thought, his photo on it. But t was strange, it was an employee badge if he was an employee, how could he be there? His wild guess was that in one way or another he had fucked up. … min Oliver...ker. That was what was written on this badge. He wasn't sure at a hundred percent, but he guessed he had now taken to call himself that way. As such, he was Oliver, last name ending with ker and the first starting with amin. Benjamin? But who knew... There were other kinds of names ending with min... For now, Oliver he supposed.

"My name is Oliver, I think."

"Well, I'm Kamijou Touma." He announced.

Oliver nodded, he would keep that name in mind.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Tap. Tap. Tap. The fingers hit the desk. And they continued. A sigh found its way out of The Administrator's mouth. He was really bored. His daily paperwork had already been filled, a true miracle! He had yet to receive any more news from his little experiment and he wasn't feeling to go out. Thus, he waited.

Maybe I could challenge 11 to chess, yes his augmented brain was always a pleasure to play against, though he could still beat him. However, relief to his boredom came in the form of a call. He picked up his phone, the old grey rotary one.

"Yes?"

" _Milord, D-9341 has encountered SCP-0000."_ It announced.

The Administrator frowned.

"Your partner already told me that."

" _What I mean Milord is that the real 9341 has encountered Zero."_

There was a lull.

"I see."

" _... Milord?"_

"The Spiral." He whispered.

" _The Spiral, Milord?"_

"Did he talk about it?" Asked The Administrator, tension in his voice.

_"I don't think so... He isn't sure of his name, Milord."_

"Very well. Anything else?"

" _Well... This is bizarre to say..."_

"What?"

" _We lost 173, its dead, I mean literally disappearing from this plane of existence kind of dead."_

Finally, good news. His lips curled. That was one good step. Maybe Zero could transform that into a leap?

"Make sure those kinds of stunts can be pulled off more than once."

" _Understood Milord. Any order concerning E-11?"_

"Yes..." A crooked smile found its way. "... Kill any orange suit inside the Site,"

 _"As you say, Milord."_ For the first time, doubt could be heard in the voice.

"You doubt." Accused The Administrator.

" _I just find this plan counter-productive and dangerous Milord... Though I will always honor thy decisions my Liege."_

He laughed.

"As always... You have reasons to... This is dangerous, but this what must happen. This is the result of the Committee, and from what we know this is how it must go."

" _I see..."_

"Worried? You haven't changed."

" _O-Of course not... Time has passed... You know how I feel."_

"You know." The Administrator flicked a chess piece, a knight, down. "Time solidify them sometimes, admirable really."

" _... I'll keep watch."_

"Indeed. Later."

" _I bid you au revoir, my Liege"._

**A CERTAIN SCP**

As always, the Site was grim... One could write page and page upon every nook and cranny of the Site. But most of it would be the same. White corridors, white tiles with flickering and dimmed white lights.

To Oliver, it was, as much as he hated it, becoming home. Or the closest comparison he could find. In a distorted way, there were places he felt safe in. But where he was right now wasn't one of those places.

The room was cramped. The ceiling was low and it was full of piping and others machinery on the ground, and the air was not spared. A pipe had been pierced and the black tear gas was escaping from it, thickening and polluting the air. They had just gotten out of an elevator that had brought them here.

But that was the least of their worries. In this very same room was an SCP which gave Oliver plenty of trouble. SCP-939. Getting eaten wasn't his preferred way of dying. If he even had one. He signalled Touma to crouch and whispered.

"Whatever happens, don't say anything and follow me discreetly alright?"

Touma looked confused, but he nodded, trusting the more experienced partner. Relieved Oliver motioned the unlucky hero to follow him. He crouched, taking care of making as little noise as possible. Something was heard, it sounded like a cough, but 9341 knew better.

As he crept forward, he felt something, fluttering near his conscience, but he ignored it. Probably his still scarred mind giving him troubles. Nothing to worry about, he hoped. He ducked his head as close as he could to the ground, advising his escape partner to do the same, the smoke being less present at ground level.

He waited for a few seconds before signalling to his companion to quickly run. They took a turn, entering an empty corridor, which door was opened, running through it and managing to stay discreet. He thought he heard something behind, but when he turned his eyes there was nothing. He had been afraid that they had been discovered by it.

He hoped that if they did the boy with him would protect them, he felt bad about thinking like that but it was his only hope, the boy was special. In his many 'life' he had never seen him, and if what he did to 173 was any indication, he was more than special. He was unique.

But unique wasn't always the best defence against what lurked there. They arrived at the next room, which was more of a corridor, leading to a bright white room. To the side was another corridor. Touma saw something from the corner of his eye, but it disappeared, going in the side corridor. He was about to open his mouth when Oliver pressed his finger against his own mouth.

He gulped but kept his mouth shut. They then continued, passing another hallway, discreetly and unseen. Finally, they arrived in a third room, which in many ways looked like the other two. Then, Touma tripped on a piece of piping, making some noise. A voice was heard.

"Anyone here?! It's me, Adam Alan!"

Oliver was about to once again rush for it but he felt something gripping him. He felt his control over his limbs disappear and the colors greyed.

His mind went to full alert. He fought, mentally, trying to break through the layer which kept him from his body. It was much, much weaker than before, interesting.

Josh smiled. Finally, he had managed to load his game. He frowned, realizing he was now in a completely different room. This was the Storage Area, full of SCP-939. He turned around, looking for the special NPC. He found it walking toward the side corridor. Josh got up, trying to stop him, but unable too, without any ability to speak.

In the abyss of his own body, Oliver tried to take back control, seeing the foolish Japanese teen going to his death. He felt himself gaining some semblance of feeling of his body. But that was not enough.

Meanwhile, Touma had begun to jog where he heard the voice coming from, he took a turn, He had heard the voice of his staff scientist, and rushed to it, hoping to link up with Foundation staff. He went into the side corridor only to face a large row of teeth. He jumped back as the maw snapped before him. It belonged to a large reptilian creature, which was blood red and sported large spikes upon its head and back. SCP-939-67 had once again managed to lure in a new prey.

Touma rolled to the ground by reflex as the claws tore where he was at a moment before. He got up, stumbling while the reptile approached, opening its large jaw.

"Holy fuck, what the hell is that!" It said, mimicking Adam's final words.

Meanwhile, Josh was panicking, he could not move his character, or at least not a lot, he pressed with all his might to go forward with little effect. Finally, the character advanced but to his great surprise, not because of him. He had stopped pressing on 'W' for a small moment, and in a shocking turn of event, the Playable Character walked forward or rather ran.

He heard a panicked voice from his speakers.

" _Run away!"_

He was mind-boggled. What was going on? He tried to press some keys but that did nothing. He watched in fascination as 939 opened its mouth, letting out Adam's death throes before leaping on the human SCP.

Apparently too confident, it let out Adam's surprised shout as Touma rolled to the side, dodging the monster as it crashed loudly on the ground. It couldn't do anything as Touma's right hand touched it, and it disappeared, leaving nothing but the familiar sound behind.

Once more the two inhabitants of the being known as D-9341 were surprised. Surprise concerning Touma was beginning to be familiar. Then, behind them, they heard two voices.

"Hey guys, it's me!"

"Where are you?"

They turned only to see two other reptiles crawling behind them, maw dribbling with a mix of saliva and blood. Oliver, back in control through sheer will, took hold of Touma's sleeve and tried to pull him toward the exit.

But the stubborn teen only scowled and told the man his will.

"I can't let other people get killed by those!"

And without further ado, he began to run straight at the monster who let out their blood curling death cries, themselves rushing in a frenzy toward him. They stumbled, the tight corridor only letting them pass one by one. The first one nearly snapped his hand but he pulled back in time, to touch its snout. As its hunt mate vanished, the last reptile reconsidered this venture.

It had no time to execute whatever plan it had thought as it was erased from this dimension, leaving nothing but the trace of its previous hunt behind.

Touma called someone for help, loudly, trying to lure out any 939s still left.

"There are none left." Announced Oliver.

"Really?"

"Yes, I've been through this part multiple times." Pain flashed on his face.

"Oh, I see... sorry."

Oliver shrugged.

"Don't be, I should be thanking you for doing whatever you did. What did you do actually?" he asked, very curious, he had forgotten to ask the first time.

Touma smiled wryly and presented his right hand,

"This is my right hand, it possess a power called the Imagine Breaker, which, erases the supernatural."

The Class-D stood silent for a few moments before nodding. He did not hide his fascination but avoided asking questions, he wouldn't be comfortable himself if someone asked about his... particularity.

"That's..." He trailed off before a sharp pain stopped him, making him take his head between his hands.

"Are you alright?" Asked Touma, running to his side.

He nearly touched the man's head but before he could he was stopped by Oliver who began to recover from the shock.

"Don't... I don't know what that hand will do to me." He gritted through clenched teeth.

"What do you mean?" Asked an anxious Touma.

"I don't know if I am supernatural or not. I mean, you made my first possessor disappear temporarily by touching him, then you did the same with 173. Who knows what will happen to me? We do not have enough data." He explained,

"I see... but what is happening to you?"

"I-I'm not sure, but whatever was controlling me before is trying to possess me once more... It is much weaker but still there, prodding and trying."

Meanwhile, Josh had tried by any means to control his character, even pressing the escape touch. He had stopped when he heard the man make a pained sound. He had listened to the conversation, intently. As of now, he had concluded this was some weird off the rail storytelling events. He sat down with a bag of snacks, ready to intervene.

"Oh, and please." Called Oliver. "Next time do as I say."

The boy nodded. Finally, after 9341 recovered, Touma and he departed from the smoked corridors, they entered in the brightly lit room, revealing an elevator, which they entered.

9341 pressed the button, making the elevator descend, neither of them talking. Suddenly the elevator shook, lights flickering and it stopped.

Unbeknownst to them, the cyberwarfare MTF and SCP-079 were fighting for the control of the elevator. 079 hoping to stall it long enough for it to arrive. It, being one of his solutions to get rid of this wild card.

Suddenly something sizzled behind Touma and Oliver. They turned, only to see the walls of the elevator blackening and to their horror apparently melting, steel transforming into a thick black liquid mucus.

Fingers, maybe, peered through the acid made hole. Those fingers were rotten, covered by brown acid, inhuman. Then the elevator shook and began to descend, faster than before. The fingers simply cut a line in the wall, sectioning it to the top.

The elevator finally grounded to a brutal halt, and the doors opened with a little ding. The two men rushed out as fast as they could but had to stop. Before them was a large black crater, which looked like a pit of acid.

"Oh no... Run!' Yelled 9341, breaking into a sprint toward the door at his left.

Without questioning anything Touma followed suit. But he turned back his eyes when he heard a squelching sound. Something... no, someone emerged from the crater... No, something actually. A tall humanoid covered head to toe in brown liquid, skin melted and rotten, a crooked grin at the lips and eyes... Eyes boring into Touma's, eyes of folly, of unrestrained madness, and they looked at Touma like a shark would eye a piece of bloody meat.

Not a good position to be in.

Touma got in a defensive position, ready to punch the damn thing with his right hand but 9341 grabbed him by the collar.

"You're going to get melted!"

And indeed, the ground below the black humanoid sizzled as drops of acid fell on it. Touma, knowing his luck, preferred not to take any risks. And so, they ran. The SCP lumbering behind them.

And they continued to run, despite their superior speed the duo was surprised by the SCP who managed to walk through walls and doors, and who managed to catch up with them rapidly despite being much slower.

"How does he keep doing that?" Grunted Touma, as he saw the humanoid walk through the door behind them for the fifth time.

"106 can teleport through short distances by using his pocket dimension." Explained the man.

Touma threw him a surprised look, which he responded by saying that he had read about nearly all of the SCPs he could find. But despite all of this knowledge they still had a murderous rotten humanoid in hot pursuit and practically no idea of what they could do.

Corridors and hallways passed, but the humanoid wouldn't give up. Finally, they arrived at a Tesla corridor. 9341 stopped, an idea popping in his head.

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

Hesitating a bit Touma nodded.

"Great, I'm going to pass through and you..." He whispered in Touma's ear, explaining his plan.

Touma reluctantly agreed and as 9341 passed through the Tesla gates, and crossed the corridor, exiting it, before closing the door. He laid himself near the electrical device. He didn't have to lay here for long. Soon SCP-106 entered the hallway, its unnerving grin still present. The apparent despair of this lone prey was for him the most beautiful of gifts.

Touma swore it got wider as it gazed upon him, who did look like he was wounded. Weakly, as the being approached he moved closer to the gate. The electricity in the air made his hair stand on end, he gulped, reminding himself he couldn't block it as he could with Biribiri's. To be fair he would rather take on her wrathful storm than being stuck in this Site, or even this world.

And he hoped he would see her again as the being neared him, taken between a metaphorical hammer and anvil. The acid being was also conscientious of this, and probably enjoying every second of it. However, it did not expect one thing. That the anvil could be broken.

And as the fingertips of 105 were about to graze Touma the Imagine Breaker pushed himself up with his legs, dashing, and then jumping through the recharging Tesla gate. The humanoid stumbled, unprepared for this and found its hand just in the middle of the gate. Then the thunder fell. The hand caught the electricity, making its owner grunt.

The being looked at Touma, its grin transforming into a hateful snarl. Eyes burning in cold hatred. The being disappeared, retreating to its own dimension, disappearing slowly, to recover.

Touma exhaled in relief. That had been way too close, honestly, everything seemed much too close those days. He got up and went to open the door, finding 9341 on the other side, waiting for him;

'I take it that went well." He said.

"Yeah, though..." Touma looked at him in the eyes. "I'd like to not do that again."

9341 nodded, humming in agreement.

"Me too."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

SCP-079 was seething or doing the equivalent for a soulless AI. 106 had failed. This was unexpected. Everything was being derailed by this unexpected data. At least the cause of its ire was walking in the corridors he had predicted. The humans had now sixty-seven percent of chance to end up right where he wanted. Or rather with who.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Corridors. Corridors. It seemed there was nothing more to this Site than corridors. Touma swore he had seen more rooms before, more containment chambers, offices and the likes in those corridors. But for one reason or the other, they were now empty and lifeless white husks.

The next co-,, miracle! Like a godsend answer from boredom born prayers was a room. Black grey in colour, it was another corridor but this time with windows to the right. Curious Touma went to take a look, with a pensive Oliver behind. The Class-D was trying to recollect what he knew about this corridor. Really, there was something about that one, but what?

As Touma looked through the glass he saw something hunched on the ground, all white in colour, the thing had its back turned to him. Then a guard entered the room where the strange white thing was, eyes dropping to it.

"What the hell is..." He began before his voice was marred with horror, "No, no, NO! NO!" He screamed, drawing his weapon.

Touma was startled when Oliver put his hand on his shoulder, eyes widened in panic. But before he could say anything a scream rang. Unlike 1048's or 939s' which were, respectively, either a loud rumble and death-rattles. But this cry, this was one of deep fear and profound anger.

The being rose on its leg, revealing a thin but tall body, hands adorned with thrice as long claws than a human finger. The scream came from the thin white humanoid, the shrill scream was growing and growing in loudness by the second.

"NOOOO! GET AWAY FROM ME!" Yelled the guard, his rifle spitting a burst of bullets, without any effect.

Then, the white humanoid leaped on the guard who was killed in barely a second, his blood splattering on the windows, hiding the view as the scream decreased in intensity.

Oliver and Touma who had frozen finally began to recover their bearings, and without asking any questions, departed, or rather ran away, opening the next door, finding themselves in a corridor going to the right.

"What was that thing?" Asked Touma.

"That was SCP-096, basically it will tear you apart if you see its face."

"Charming, but a bit sensitive."

They continued to advance, the door sliding to let them enter the next part of the Site, which was a three-way with a small opening in the rightmost wall. And by this small opening was a balled up 096, quietly sobbing in its long-clawed hand.

Panicked at first, the two humans began to retreat, Oliver ordering Touma to look at the ground and to not look up, not until they were sure that the 'shy' monster was out of sight.

"Wait, maybe I can probably make him disappear." Proposed Touma.

"I don't know... I-" Began the man, but he was cut off by Touma.

"Trust me on this, I won't look at his face, alright?"

Finally, 9341 agreed, not that Touma would have actually stopped if he hadn't. The Imagine Breaker, sight fixed to the tiled floor approached the sobbing SCP. Slowly he managed to near it to the point of seeing it's hunched back. He extended his hand but the light, those damn lights flickered before shutting off.

Touma thrust his hand forward, trying to touch the SCP before anything, but he missed, before tripping on the white monster, he fell on the ground. And then the light came on, and he found himself in plain view of 096's face.

It was ugly. Bleach white, a profuse dislocated jaw, deformed bone cheeks and for eyes two pupilless white orbs. And the screaming began. It was so high pitched that it forced Touma to put both of his hands on his ears, instinctively.

The wailing intensified in a maddening crescendo, and soon the thing launched its arm above, trying to gain momentum to strike the unlucky boy. And as he brought down its claws it stopped, an inch from Touma's face, sending a wisp of air in his face.

The screaming and wailing stopped, replaced by silence before, it disappeared, its last sound being the one of almost inaudible glass shattering.

And the AI, in its small computer began to comprehend that maybe, it would be more difficult than calculated to eliminate this alteration. Maybe the next attempt would be successful.

"I have to say that's some pretty bad luck you got there." Commented 9341.

Touma shrugged, already preparing to launch himself in explaining his bad luck, something he had, to his sadness, already recited quite a few times. But he was cut short when they entered the next corridor, a different one, yay. But what was less yay-ish was the fact that a Site guard was laying on the ground, next to the entrance of the WC, back to the wall, he was whimpering, a gun in his hand.

His head swivelled toward the two orange-clad men, their sight made him panic. And fearing a fate worse than death he turned the gun against his head. Touma, horrified, tried to stop the guard but it was too late. Time slowed, as a bewildered Touma watched the finger slowly pressing the metal bit, and clicking. And then, nothing. The guard stopped before muttering.

"How? What the... Those guns never jam!" He yelled in panic.

Now, what's interesting about Touma was his ability to trigger the most improbable and unfortunate of situations. Not only for himself though, but other people were also victims of this literally godless misfortune. And, what is more, unlucky than, when threatened, having your only weapon jammed? Not a lot of thing.

Lack of luck or lottery winning one, only time could tell. But what was clear was that Security Officer Calvin would live longer, at least to see the sun rise another day. However, he himself did not hold that opinion. As a lone guard, seeing two Class-D enter, maybe armed, at least with hostile intention had pushed him into killing himself; Who knew what those criminals could do for vengeance, or just for fun. And that was not speaking of what lurked in these abandoned halls.

And he was now freaking out. Touma approached the man, who had fallen into mute silence after babbling about the supposed legendary reliability of those weapons. But as he drew near, a worried demand on his lips he was faced by the pistol's cannon.

"Leave me alone! Get back! That's an order Class-Ds!" Barked the man, arm trembling.

Oliver went in full retreat, hands in the air, trying to make it out of here alive.

But Touma wasn't done. Hiding his nervousness, though beads of sweat started to roll down his head, he spoke.

"I am not a Class-D." He said slowly.

The guard only shook his anger and pressed his pistol's on Touma's forehead.

"Oh yeah, what are you, jac-" Calvin shouted before his eyes dropped to the inscription 'SCP-0000' on Touma's jumpsuit.

Behind the tinted glass, his eyes widened, an SCP! Oh lord, what kind of monster had he pissed off? He threw his hands in the air, pistol falling on the ground.

"Oh god! Please don't kill me! I have a family! I'm sorry!" He yelled, falling on his behind before crawling backward.

Touma only sighed, the man was shaken, his past experience, whatever it had been had broken him. The man was once again sobbing, praying to god and remembering his family. At least they would have a cozy compensation, at least enough for his kid to go to college. And paid funeral... if there was anything left.

"Oi, I'm not going to kill you." Called Touma, rubbing the back of his head.

Calvin opened his eyes.

"R-really?" He asked. He had heard stories, Foundation folk stories where the SCPs left their victims live, to give them some semblance of hope only to crush it later.

"Of course, look just put down the gun alright?"

"A-alright, but I still keep it, alright? S-so don't try anything stupid... please."

The guard slowly holstered his pistol, before falling silent.

"What do you want?" He asked, hand still at the holster.

"Just to pass through, alright? And also... stop you from killing yourself, that's not the solution." Said Touma.

"Shut up! Do you know what's out there? It's better to die the sweet death than getting... caught by them." He roared.

"Don't you have a family?! Don't be a coward, they're counting on you to get back home!"

"I will not! Have you seen how fucked up it is in there?" he answered, anger growing. "They all got killed! Mike, Leon, Kat and all... all killed... I was the only one to escape." He finished, voice winding down.

"Then what are you doing except sullying their memory?!" Yelled back Touma. "Live, if not for you, for them!" He finished, grasping the man's collar.

He was pushed back and the guard stood silent for a few moments before finally nodding.

"Alright, I'll see how it goes. Here take this." He said before handing them a keycard. "That's a thank you, I have a better chance if I stay in there." He said, pointing at the WC behind him.

Before Touma could say anything, he pointed at the exit door of the corridor.

"Now, get going before I change my mind." He growled, his habit as a guard resurfacing.

Silently he thanked the kid for stopping him to do something stupid and panic fuelled.

"Oh, and before you go. The freak doctor is out there." He announced them, before entering the toilet, preparing for one of the tensest games of hide and seek in his life.

And as the two departed he couldn't help himself but whisper.

'SCP-0000? I'll remember that."

Meanwhile, the two orange-clad men continued their trek, still seeking to escape. But something was off with Oliver. Touma could feel it. And Touma, with his legendary subtlety, on par with a sledgehammer, asked what was off.

"So, what's wrong?"

"What do you mean?'

"You look all gloomy since we met that guard."

The man frowned.

"First off, I don't like guards they a-"

"That doesn't mean we must let them die." Said Touma, also frowning, he didn't like where that was going.

"Alright, alright, but fact is, that this guard is supposed to die, he always died." Explained Oliver, surprising Touma.

"He never lived in any of your life?"

"Never, I wonder what happened for him to stay alive."

"Well... would you consider your gun jamming bad luck?"

"Of course." Replied the Class-D

"You said I was unlucky before, well, fact is that I have literally no luck. None at all, due to my power."

"I... see... I suppose. But what's the correlation between that and this change?"

"My lack of luck also applies to others, sometimes they have some accidents, or worse." He explained.

"So you think your lack of luck caused the dysfunctionality?"

"That's the only thing I can think of."

"Well, t-" Began Oliver before stopping, causing Touma to look at him oddly. "Looks like we're getting closer to get out." He flashed a tight smile before his lips curled downward. "Look you'll have to trust me on this. Do as I say."

"What?" Asked Touma.

Oliver pointed at a door before them.

"This is the surveillance room; one can lift the lock-down on this sector if one can access it. And we have been given a pass by your friend the guard."

Touma took out the Level 3 card from his pocket.

"You see, it comes handy to help people."

Oliver made no comment. One can loot a body though, he thought.

"Anyway, after we enter in there, do as I say, understood?"

"Aye, aye." Sighed Touma.

"Good, now let's get in."

Touma slid the card in the detector, unlocking the door. The two advanced and found themselves in a large room full of screens and consoles. Instantly, 9341 rushed to lower a lever on the wall.

"Now follow m-" He began before someone cut him off.

"Oh my, I wasn't aware I would have such company." Said a distorted voice from behind Touma.

He turned to face the origin of the sound. There was a man dressed in a large black coat with a black hood covering its head, while its face was covered by a white beaked mask. Its steely and calm eyes were focused on the black-haired SCP.

"Would you care for a friendly talk?"

**A CERTAIN SCP**


	18. Shyness Cure(s) and General Chaos

"Would you care for a friendly talk?"

The question froze the two humans. Oliver had never seen the Plague Doctor initiate such interaction, usually, he would just attack him and sometimes spout the same sentences over and over. But here was the black-robed anomaly, waiting patiently for an answer. He felt Touma's eyes dart on him, awaiting anything.

"Ignore him." He said.

He was about to go in the adjacent room, and per usual circle around the console, the Doctor behind him, before rushing for the exit when the dark distorted voice rang again.

"How rude. Is this how you treat those offering a helping hand."

"A helping hand?" Muttered Touma.

"Don't listen to him." Growled 9341

"Only fools refuse to dialogue. Especially when one seeks to trade knowledge."

"You aren't fooling us 049." Said Oliver, pulling on Touma.

"What say thou?" Asked the beak masked character. "I just wish to talk, so you can help me, and I can help you."

"Maybe we'll learn something." Whispered Touma to Oliver.

"Are you crazy, it's an SCP, we can't trust it!"

"Hey! I am one too! And probably you too. It can't hurt to talk."

The two bore their eyes into the other's. The orbs clashed into each other before Oliver grunted and turned away.

"Tch, I guess... But if you make one move, it's bye-bye!" He grumbled at 049.

"I perfectly understand your sceptisism, my appearance is indeed not welcoming."

"I'm talking about what you do... doctor." He spat the last word with venom.

"Why such hostility toward my craft?" Asked the being, tilting its head to the side. "A doctor's work is noble."

"Don't try to play innocent, doc. You're only turning people into undead you freak."

"Wait what? What do you mean by undead?" Questioned Touma.

"I mean that this fucking lunatic makes zombies out of people, because of his so called shitty cure!"

"Please do not insult my cure, it-"

"Alright! Everybody chill out for a couple of seconds, and I'm going to ask questions, cause I don't understand anything." Said Touma, interrupting the two. "First, who are you?" It asked, directing the question to the black-clad individual.

"I am but a humble healer, a man of knowledge, but your kind may know me as SCP-049." It said, slightly bowing his head.

"Alright, 049, and what is your cure?"

"Aaah, many ask this." Drawled 049, as if tired by this question. "My cure is the remedy for all who are touched by the disease."

"And what is the disease?"

The masked man stopped for a few moments, looking at Touma surprised.

"I would have thought someone like you would know..." It trailed off.

"What does that mean?" Asked 9341 gruffly, overtaking Touma.

The eyes under the hood flashed in thinly veiled annoyance at this.

"Don't you know, can't you feel it?" It asked its voice gaining notes of excitement. "This young man, no not a man." It said pointing at Touma. "He is maybe the key!"

"I am what?"

"You are the key for the cure! But most particularly." It explained, advancing its head forth before sniffing the air in contentment. "Not only are you a cure, but you are also sick and... the counter cure." He told Touma, fixing its steely eyes in Touma's.

"You're crazy..." Muttered Touma.

"Well, that's what I was trying to say earlier, for fuck's sake." Cried out 9341.

"Nay, I'm only trying to cure this sick world." Denied the robed SCP.

"What even is your disease?!" Shouted Touma.

"Don't you see! You really are blind my poor boy! You are sick! He is sick!" It shouted back, pointing a gauntleted finger at the two before it swept its hand in a circular motion. "They are all sick! Every each of you is rotten to the core with this disease!" It claimed, its voice some pitches higher. "Except..." It trailed off.

"Except...?" Parroted Touma, though he had a bad feeling about that.

"Except those I heal." It said in a proud voice. "Here they are." He twisted to the side, freeing the entry.

From it came three lumbering Foundation personnel, or rather former. Their uniforms were all opened midriff, letting see fresh and still bleeding surgical cut. Their skin had greyed, their mouth was wide open with drool coming from it. Their eyes were glassy, with some wounds bleeding on different limbs. As such, Touma, due to his experience, identified them. Zombies.

"Aren't they beautiful?" Cooed 049, covering them with its eyes as a mother would.

"I told you we should have gotten out of here!" Shouted Oliver, panicking.

Touma ignored him, in favour of asking, or rather yelling at 049.

"What the hell did you do to them?"

"Can't you see? I cured them. Now, it is your turn." Said the being. "Imagine this, the entire world cured!" Glee filled its voice.

The first zombie lunged at Touma, a guttural growl escaping from its maw. It was easily repulsed and fell to the ground, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. The second and third were also easily disposed of.

"I see... My hypothesis was correct." Hummed the doctor. "You seem to both cure them whilst removing my own cure."

Touma completely stopped listening to the black-clad individual, and instead opted to leap toward him. The being moved back in time, and two other zombies came forward.

"Get back here you coward!" Shouted Touma as the two other creatures fell on the ground.

"Very little for me." It chuckled back.

And the doctor turned its back to the Japanese SCP, leaving behind it other of its creations. Touma managed to deftly neutralize some but had to fall back so he wouldn't get bitten or anything. But before it could leave, he asked another question, shouting it so it could be heard over the undead's moaning.

"Were you the one behind the attack last week?!"

It stopped, turning its gaze toward the teen. It stood silent for a few moments before answering to a retreating and battling Touma.

"No, I am not. It has been months since I stepped out of my apartments... not by my free will, however. After all, you would know." It answered, looking at Oliver during the last part before he melted in the corridor's shadow.

After a few minutes of dodging, punching and erasing the zombie delay force had finally been exterminated, a dozen broken bloody corpse laying on the ground. The young man groaned in frustration and fatigue as he heard Oliver begin a rant.

"I told you to listen to me! But, oh no! You gotta talk to the robed freak! We're going to fucking die like that."

Touma frowned, even if he had made a mistake Oliver didn't need to shout him down like that.

"Hey, there were zombies outside anyway! We would've been surrounded!" He shouted back. "And what did it meant by 'you would know about it'?"

The man grimaced. Who did this kid think he was? He may have saved his life alright but he wasn't going to let a young freak talk him down.

"Oi! Don't act like your holier than me, mister 'you're the cure and the counter-whatever the fuck'!"

"I don't know what he was talking about, alright!"

"Well, neither do I fucking do!"

The two looked at each other in the eyes, irritation clearly visible. Finally, they broke apart and silently walked out of the room leaving dead undead behind.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Doctor Meynard was a good runner. Unlike the stereotype of the nerdy, unphysical scientist he regularly exercised. He loved running, what's better than mindlessly putting one foot after the other to forget about the horrors of the Foundation. As well as the stress of being a mole.

And right now, as he ran, he was questioning his life choice. After all, it was because he was a mole that he had helped cause this massive Containment Breach. He had expected Insurgency reinforcement, to take this Site or some SCPs. Instead, he got what he was running from. SCP-106.

The damn thing was chasing him with the most deranged grin, which sometimes transformed into a snarl of boiling fury. The positive point about it all was that he had just broken his endurance record time. The negative point was that the thing behind didn't care at all. It was slower for sure but managed to pursue him despite just walking.

But Meynard saw something. A checkpoint which would lead him to Gate A where he would probably be rescued by MTF or other Foundation personnel. Even if they had realized that he was a traitor he had more chance to survive. With a hopeful look, he dashed toward it and fell, a string maybe making him trip over.

He fell face first on the ground, his nose began to bleed from the impact. He tried to get up but something pierced his right hand, sticking it to the ground. He turned to look at the object, a long dagger with a small note.

_'We knew. Thanks for playing. With justice_

_-The Foundation ;)'_

And then he heard the thing behind him, and as he was transported to its dimension, he didn't regret his life choice but his birth.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Something fell through the ceiling. With a heavy thud it landed before Touma and Oliver, it was a corpse, a human one, though it was unrecognizable. Rotten and covered in a viscous black fluid it stank with death.

Touma put his hand before his nose.

"Urgh, what's this?"

"That's what happens when SCP-106 touches you. It brings you to its dimension and that's what happens, we shouldn't stay here, it's maybe above us." Explained Oliver, continuing to walk.

They both left the crossroad where the corpse of Doctor Meynard had fallen. As always, the corridors were... white! Of course, they were, what else would they be? Oh yes, they were also empty and silent, per witch what could now be considered usual.

The author will now pause and announce that he kinda ran out of ways to tell how bland and silent those corridors are.

However, this time, the silence was borken, a powerful quake shook the Site, with a matching roar, followed by a potent detonation. It was difficult to estimate the range, but for them, it appeared too close. Silence finally settled after a few seconds of ruckus.

"What the hell is this thing?" Asked Touma.

Oliver thought for a while before speaking.

"I don't know much on what it is, but I know it can resist a nuclear warhead."

Touma felt his moral hit the ground, not a lot of things could survive such devastating weaponry, he could be counted on the fingers of one hand, Accelerator, maybe a few Saint, Magic Gods, and maybe some others, eh, who knows. And those people weren't particularly easy to beat or even survive against.

Anyway, there was no time to waste, the longer they stayed in this place, the longer they were vulnerable. As they passed a new door, Oliver grinned.

"Hell yeah."

Before them was a checkpoint, which lead to the upper level of the Site, the Heavy Containment Zone. Touma put the card against the detector, and the doors slid open. They took the elevator, situated just after the checkpoint.

"Finally, we're going to get out of here." Sighed Oliver.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Wanda and Mishimoto were walking in the Site, their environment had changed from the white halls of the Entrance Zone to the grey and metallic brown of the Heavy Containment Zone, the dim lights barely managed to illuminate the dark corridors. The low ceiling only helped create an oppressive atmosphere.

Had they been honest the two would admit that they were completely lost, indeed this part was one of the few they nearly never entered. It was a containment wing where few ever entered and none stayed for too long. For a guard, it was considered a punishment to be assigned here, or you were a rookie and the quartermaster put you there to toughen you up. Either way, the silent halls were no one's place to be.

However, they were both too proud or too scared to admit it and thus they continued, each following the other in a silent and awkward way. They walked through the nameless metal corridors until they arrived before the Containment Chamber of SCP-106. The two looked at each other.

"Do you think we should check if it's still there?" Asked Mishimoto.

After a moment of hesitation, Wanda agreed but questioned Mishimoto.

"Wait, how are we going to get in?"

That was Mihimoto's turn to shine as she took out her special Site-19 Level 4 card.

"Holy... Where did you get that, you're supposed to only have a level 2 and level 3/Zero card!"

Mishimoto chuckled, before showing the verso of the card, where 'Ethics Committee MemberSite19' was inscribed.

"I managed to get a promotion." She simply said before opening the containment.

"Ethics Committee..." Trailed off Wanda.

"Surprised?" Asked Mishimoto as she entered the chamber, or rather the observation bay above.

Unlike the rest of the Heavy Containment Zone, it was white in colour with a few items of furniture and some consoles as well as a screen showing the inside of 106's Containment. The Containment in itself was a giant metal box, over five meters tall and wide hovering over electromagnets. Inside it was a man on some kind of operation, a strange contraption over its leg.

"Nah, just surprised you joined those useless guys." She casually replied, observing 106's Containment footage.

Mishimoto stopped.

"What do you mean by useless." She said, slowly turning to Wanda.

The soldier laughed it off.

"C'mon everyone knows they're just here to be pretty and act like everything is up to 'Ethical norms'." She pronounced the last words while air quoting.

Mishimoto thought about it, was that really what others thought of the Committee? Was what she joined a futile organization? No, she steeled herself. The Committee was the way forward, it was necessary, both to balance the power of The Administrator and to ensure that the Foundation would not become more inhumane that it already was. They were necessary and useful.

Mishimoto huffed before replying.

"We're useful, we are the only one that can stand up to the O5s, and we punish those breaking the rules."

That made Wanda roll her eyes.

"Yeah, great just more bureaucracy in the way. I think we would function much better if it wasn't for you blocking direct orders."

"Oh! Because you'd prefer, we turn into... into... monsters!" Replied Mishimoto, heatedly.

"Oi, you're being too dramatic here, Mishimoto! Just saying we should be more direct!"

"This isn't an army, you can't just throw orders everywhere, you need something to check if those are valid!"

"Well-"

Wanda was about to reply when the roar was heard, accompanied by multiple detonations, though this time the Site did not shake, the sound was still very strong.

"Maybe, we'll discuss politics later, let's finish whatever we're doing here, the Old Man isn't here evidently." Said Wanda, using 106's nickname.

"Yes, but that..." Began Mishimoto holding a paper. "Might help us re-contain it."

"Uhmm?"

"Here, take a look." She handed her the paper.

Wanda read it, it was the re-containment procedure for 106, detailing every step necessary to lock it up. One had to activate the Site's speaker, to use the femur... breaker? That sounded rather ominous and then activate the electromagnetic field, which would prevent the Old Man from breaking through the walls or teleporting back to its pocket dimension.

"Is the femur breaker what I think?" Asked Wanda.

"Unfortunately, yes." Sighed Mishimoto. "It's a device made to, well, break this man's femur." She pointed at the Class-D in 106's containment. "The cries emitted by the victim will lure 106 back to its containment... and then we can lock him back up." She explained.

"So, a sacrifice?"

"Exactly." Whispered Mishimoto, darkly.

They stood silently for a couple seconds before Wanda coughed, clearing her voice.

"I-I suppose that if we do it, we can save a lot of people in the Site, right? Right?" She said, more trying to convince herself more than the other.

"I-I guess so." Replied Mishimoto, relieved in a strange way.

"You know what, I'll do it." Affirmed Wanda, pacing to the command consoles.

First, she lifted the sound transmission lever, to activate it. Soon the entire Site was filled with the cries for help of the Class-D.

" _...omeone there? Please help me! … Oh Lord, please!"_ Begged the man.

Wanda's hand settled on the second lever, the one needed to activate the femur breaker. Her trembling hand gripped the lever but didn't move it. She bit her lips. Why? The man there was a criminal, one who had probably committed some of the worst crime... He would die anyway... and his death right now would save so many. She had already killed before... but always in self-defence, always when someone was or would shoot at her... but n-.

She was shaken from her internal conflict when a second hand, softer and smaller, pulled the lever instead of her. And barely a second after a loud crunch was heard followed by cries of pain and wiling. They reverberated through the entire complex. The sound was loud enough to be nearly deafening. Inside the metal containment, the man was trashing against his bonds.

However, the camera feed soon went black as a squelching and sizzling sound as heard. A sound reminiscing of acid. Understanding that this was their cue, Wanda swiftly activated the electromagnetic field, imprisoning once more the being made of acid. Soon the pleas of mercy stopped. And silence finally fell again as Mishimoto deactivated the sound transmission.

"Well, that's done I guess." Sighed Mishimoto, before her eyes noticed something.

On a table was a black card with white stripes and marking on it. She took it in her hands and flipped it, her eyes widening. This was a Level 5 card. The highest level of credentials one could have in the Site. It opened every door of the compound and was normally reserved for either the Site Director or a Level 5 Overseer. This could very well be their way out.

"What got you all riled up?" Asked Wanda, noting the excited look.

Mishimoto only replied by showing her the card, which she observed with raised eyebrows.

"What is that doing here?"

Mishimoto shrugged.

"Who knows, but that will be helpful."

"Don't you think we'll get in trouble? I mean it isn't meant for us."

"Don't worry." Reassured Mishimoto. "As long as we don't go to unauthorized place it's okay, and of course we can't let it fall in the wrong hands. Pretty sure they will understand."

Wanda thought about it.

"Why not." She finally said, nodding. "Let's get moving."

While they were leaving the room, Wanda looked one last time at 106's containment, a sad look on her face before something caught her eye. On the screen which usually displayed the inside of the containment appeared a face, black on one side and white on the other. It was not human, but the anger it exuded on it shook the woman to her core, then it disappeared a second later.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Oh, uh, nothing..." She replied before catching up with the scientist.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Two orange-clad figures were running through Site-19. Behind them a wall gave way to a dark figure, dripping of acid. A burst of deranged laughter echoed through the dark tubular metal corridors. Despite their best efforts, the thing wasn't abandoning the pursuit, they had tried to hide, only to be nearly sent to kingdom come by the lethal viscous liquid, and they hadn't encountered a Tesla Gate yet, though they doubted they could pull off that kind of stunt twice.

Then, the speakers emitted the sound of a man, asking for help before a loud and cringing crunch was heard. It was soon followed by shouts and moans of pain, and to their astonishment 106 lifted its rotting head toward the speaker, its crooked smile widening before it passed through one of the side walls, disappearing.

"Wait what?" Whispered Oliver.

"You know what happened?" Asked Touma, but his question was soon answered when the PA system came to life once more, this time bearing another message.

" _SCP-106 has been successfully re-contained."_ Briefly announced the voice.

"Oh, so that means we won't have to deal with that thing anymore?"

"Normally..." Began Oliver hesitantly. "Though I'm not sure, this isn't supposed to go that way."

Touma threw him a questioning look.

"Normally, well, I'm the one, well whatever control me, that does it. But someone or something interfered, why and how... I can't tell. I don't know what can happen." He explained.

"And what was that sound?" Asked Touma, though he felt questioning seemed like a bad idea.

"Oh, that's just the bait." Casually explained 9341.

"Bait? That was someone?!" Growled Touma, not liking at all the answer.

9341 blinked owlishly at him, not expecting such reaction to something that appeared more than evident and normal for him.

"Well, yeah, it likes to hear people scream in pain. It then gets back to its containment, where the bait is and will proceed to, well, kill it. Then you can lock it back up." He said, offhandedly.

"B-but, you can't do that... That's not human."

9341 stared at the boy for some time before bursting in laughter.

"Not human! Hahaha! Alright, kid, you got some humour, damn, didn't laugh like that since… Let's just say it's been a while."

"I'm not joking! This is immoral."

"Immoral." Chuckled the man. "Kid this is the Site-19, not some boy scout summer camp. As if anyone gives a crap about moral."

"Well, I do." Exclaimed Touma. "This is wrong,"

Oliver frowned. What was that kid's problem? He was an SCP for God's sake, trying to escape Site-19 nonetheless. And here they were talking about morals and what not. Damn, thought 9341, maybe I should ditch him or whatever. But he advised against that since the kid had that strange power, he might be useful later. Oh, and he owed him a life debt but who cared, right? He didn't get saved just to die because of things morals or whatever the fuck kids were up to those days.

"Yeah, alright. That's the most horrible thing I've ever seen." He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice like acid from 106. "But hey, now we don't have a fucking acid weirdo serial killer trying to bust our ass to some dimension where he'll toy with us for who knows how long."

"How can you be so... cold about this?" Asked Touma, with an edge in his voice.

To be honest, he was getting tired of the man's casual attitude toward the death and suffering of human beings. And the know-it-all attitude was also getting to his nerves, the atmosphere and near death situation not helping in the slightest.

"Well, kid." He began.

Oh yeah, and getting called kid was also getting on his nerves.

"I've seen that shit happens a lotta times, and to be fair, that's probably the best thing to do."

"How could you say t-" Touma began before being cut off by a now angry 9341.

"Enough! For fuck's sake kiddo. I've lived this hundreds of thousands if not millions of time. This is the unique way to get out safe, alright? There is no other way!"

"I wasn't there before!" Replied Touma. "Things changed, you said it yourself!"

"Well, you dense motherfucker! I don't know what changed and didn't! And why are you shouting at me! I ain't the one who designed that fucking thing. So lay me off." He finished, throwing a dark glare in Touma's way.

The teen stood, mouth open, shutting it and tightening his fists, his wrath fading. The man wasn't responsible in any way. He wasn't the designer neither did he commit the act, in full possession of his body.

"S-sorry, I got carried away." Apologized the teen.

The man's only response was a simple tch. He turned his head, reporting his attention back to the corridors.

"Let's go."

And the long march continued. The atmosphere heavy, and not only because of the lack of lighting, the deafening silence, and the low ceiling. Once again it was very uneventful with just a few catwalks, overlooking the dark depths of the Site being filled with gas. Though they managed to avoid the painful gassing by sharing the mask, when one crossed the gas-filled area he would throw the mask to the other and wait for him to join him.

Finally, after around a dozen minutes of mindless walking, they arrived in a special corridor. This one had an elevator burrowed in its side. Oliver stopped with the Imagine Breaker, imitating him.

"Say, your card level is 3 right?" Asked the Class-D.

"Yeah, that's it."

"And you can kill those zombies, right?" He continued.

"Well, yeah, I wouldn't say kill but yeah."

"Good, there's a Level 4 card in there, we'll need it, come." Said Oliver heading for the elevator.

They entered the lift and the adult pressed a button, making the doors close and the elevator ascended. After a handful of seconds of climbing the lift stopped, and opened its door to reveal a grim silent hallway. It seemed that the lights were gloomier, the ceiling lower and the silence heavier.

As they took their first step Touma felt the unpleasing odour of decay and death, apparently, the other man had also noticed it and was wincing.

"Ah, never knew it stank so much." He commented. "Couldn't smell before. Come to think of it, that was probably the only silver lining."

But as they turned a corner, the spiky-haired boy noticed someone laying on the ground. He rushed to the figure before stopping dead in his tracks as he realized the state of the corpse. And indeed, it was a corpse, the long red cut in the abdomen coupled with the grey skin tone and the stench of death made it clear.

"Could you touch it please?" Asked Oliver, in his casual tone.

"Why?" Simply asked Touma, not eager in the slightest.

"Well, you see the robed freak is coming after we take the card and all those corpses are going to be reanimated and will try to kill us all. So, I'd rather have them neutralized." He explained.

"What is this place?" Questioned Touma, while he did as asked.

Though the corpse didn't change in the slightest he trusted his hand to do the work, he hoped.

"That's 049's containment."

So, this is where it lives mused Touma. Compared to this his own containment appeared luxurious. They continued to walk through the dark corridors, neutralizing the still immobile corpses until they arrived into the Containment chamber proper. There Oliver lifted different lever, re-routing power to the elevator and to the key card.

Meanwhile, Touma observed 049's living quarter with a critical eye. It was very small, much smaller than his own with no furniture, no shower or anything. It was literally barren, he wondered how it lived... But maybe it didn't... It probably didn't need them, he rationalized. To be fair, he wasn't sure the Doctor was human.

He didn't have time to continue his line of thinking as Oliver called him, ready to depart. They walked back to the elevator but before turning the last corner Oliver spoke.

"Look, when we'll approach the elevator, it will come out of it, so don't freak out, just retreat with me and then sneak around him when we go for the elevator. Avoid touching him, he can kill you instantly."

Touma nodded, following the man as he took his first step into the final hallway. Suddenly the lift's door opened and from it came the dark robed man, hand extended forward.

"Do not be afraid." It whispered. "I am the cure."

The two orange-clad humans turned tails, running back to 049's containment. Oliver observed with satisfaction that the corpses stood motionless on the ground. At least they wouldn't have to worry about undead mauling them to death.

But as they were running away the Plague Doctor called them once more.

"Where are you going doctor?"

Doctor? Though the two of them, though they kept running. Then the Plague Doctor chuckled.

"Why are you so afraid, doctor? You were very interested in my cure."

Touma threw a questioning sideways look at Oliver, whose face was closed. However, the masked SCP continued.

"Didn't you... Doctor Oliver Parker?" It asked, apparently amused.

Oliver stopped. How did this thing know him? He didn't even know himself! So how come this robed freak knew his goddamned name! And why did it call him 'Doctor'? Unless... He thought back to this card, a card he saw much time during his multiple 'lives'. It depicted someone, who he assumed was him as a Level 4 something. Maybe he had contact with 049 in his past. A-

He was broken out of his train of thought when Touma pulled him forward as the black-clad doctor brought its deadly hand near him.

"Hey! Don't doze off!"

"You were very interested in my cure, doctor. As a man of science I thought you had understood, why flee me now?" Asked the being, tilting its head to the side.

The two humans went in the containment's observation bay, Touma to the left and Oliver to the right, away from the entrance. The being stopped at it, observing the two humans as if hesitating between who to cure.

Finally, its gaze settled on Touma, and with its gauntleted hand extended it began to slowly shuffle toward the boy.

"You are the one who removed my cure. My poor disillusioned boy, I shall show you the brilliance of it."

His gaze shifted a bit toward Oliver, as this one began to creep toward the exit, however the masked being continued to approach the unlucky teen.

"No thanks, I already have healthcare coverage." He replied.

It answered with a simple huff, creeping closer and closer to Touma. Meanwhile, Oliver made a dash for it, attracting the robed SCP's attention. Determined to escape Touma took the opportunity to also make a break for it, bypassing 049.

It hissed in apparent frustration seeing its two patients escape, its slow movement and reaction time preventing him from catching them. But, still determined to fulfil its twisted oath of Hippocrates it pursued the rebellious sick. The Pestilence which dwelled in them had to be removed, whether they liked it or not.

And, it was with great satisfaction that it witnessed the young Japanese patient tripping on one of the corpses and tumbling to the ground. The boy tried to get up fast as he realized that the Plague Doctor was now nearing him. He turned on his back only to witness the SCP crouching over him.

"Now, stay calm, soon you will feel better than ever." It said, cooing as one would do with a child

His only answer was a kick in the sternum which did very little to stop it, as it barely registered the attack. 9341 meanwhile was looking at the scene in horror, while his body screamed at him to run, his mind was... also telling him to run. But his eyes, his eyes could not look away from the morbid spectacle.

The Doctor remarked this and laughed.

"Now doctor, this is what you wanted, isn't it? Pay attention, for this is the future."

However, this little moment of relaxation cost dearly to the mad doctor. A right hook hit its beak, and with the sound of shattering came the one of shattering ceramic, as well as an, enrage cry of pain. Clutching its face the Plague Doctor backpedalled while letting out a string of curses.

" **AAAH! MORDIABLE! TRUANDAILLE! FUSTILARIAN!"** It shouted with an even more distorted voice.

Without wasting any time Touma ran, luckily the lift had already been called and was faithfully waiting for someone to hop in. But as he was about to enter it, he turned his head one last time toward the crouching doctor, their eyes met. The grey eyes of the adept of Hippocrates were filled with fury, promising vengeance. But what was most shocking was what was behind 049's black-clad finger, what was being slowly revealed by the cracking mask. It was... It was... Touma did not have the time to find the correct words as he was pulled into the lift by his partner.

" **Nos nos revisdiens. If you do not come to the Cure, the Cure will come to you."** It growled before the door closed, leaving the two alone.

A small tune played as the lift finally finished its descent and opened its door, finally confirming that they had escaped from the lair of 049. They stepped into the dark hall, sighing in relief.

"That went worse than I thought." Whispered Oliver.

"You tell me. You two know each other?" Asked Touma.

"I-I don't know... I don't remember my life before this... this whole thing!" He threw his arm around him before putting his head in his palms. "But... I might've worked here before, as in being a scientist and not some common cannon fodder."

"I see..." Trailed off Touma

He pondered about what happened to Oliver, now 9341. What could have changed this man from someone recognized as a doctor to a prisoner? And cannon fodder... Weren't Class-D, personnel that took care of menial tasks and helped in some testing? Cannon fodder... That definitely implied something darker, something straight out of Academy City's dark sides and illegal labs. But this was no time to think about the morally questionable choices of the Foundation as the elevator behind them was called back up.

Without a word, they both ran away from the elevator, not interested in confronting the angry Doctor. As they ran their feet led them to a corridor with a small side room protected by a key card detector.

"Get in there" Hissed Oliver as they opened the door with the card and entered the room.

The man put his finger on his lip before sticking his ear on the metallic door. Though the sound was muffled he heard the distinctive shuffle of the Plague Doctor. It stopped, whispering and growling inaudibly before continuing his way, bypassing the two.

"Let's stay here for a minute or two alright?" proposed Oliver.

Touma agreed and let his eyes roam over the different parts of the room. It was rather cramped with rows upon rows of shelves upon which stood countless items of documentation and files. There was a part for the personnel, one for the material, some for the Site's activities, log, camera recording. But the most interesting part was the far off part which contained documentation on the Foundation's primary interest, anomalies.

His curiosity getting the better of him he went to see which SCPs the Site contained, just the numbers he thought. He was pretty sure he would piss off quite a few people if he learned things he shouldn't. Or maybe, he should learn things that he shouldn't. With an intrigued Oliver in tow, he headed straight for the archives. He looked around, numbers came up, like 173, 106, 049. Some he didn't knew like 131. His gaze settled on 096's file.

"Hey." Called Oliver. "That's Shy Guy's file, always wanted to see its face without getting killed by the freak, wanna take a look?"

Touma shrugged, instead more concerned about finding his own file. Uncaring about Site protocol, Oliver began to open 096's file. Indeed, he had seen no camera in the room, it was probably for privacy, people were probably searched when they left the room and he doubted they hadn't thought of a supernatural anti-thievery security system.

As such he felt free to read the file. He began to flip through the pages of interview of witnesses before finally finding the last page. This one had in huge red letters 'DO NOT LOOK BEHIND'. He shrugged, hey now that the thing was dead it wouldn't hurt right. He took a look at the face of 096, a long look. It was frankly disappointing, it was pretty ugly, white as porcelain with small pupiless eyes and a huge jaw. He had already seen its face but never had the time to fully focus on it.

"Did you hear that?" Asked Touma out of the blue.

The man looked up from his files frowning.

"What?"

The young Japanese shrugged, though his face looked troubled.

"I thought I heard something. There! Don't you hear it?"

Falling silent 9341 stretched his ear, he frowned. Yes, there was something. It was like a faraway buzzing and some shatter like sound. But in seconds the noise grew louder and louder. The two looked at each other, panic swelling. Then the sound became distinguishable. It was a sound that preceded death.

"Oh no!" He yelled.

Touma acted on instinct as he too recognized the coming scream, he had heard it only once but once had been enough. He tackled the older man to the ground as the door was ripped open by a flying white thing. The screaming and wailing sounds were now ear-shattering as the thing passed over the two of them, huge claws swiping where they were a moment ago.

It crashed against the wall, leaving huge webs of crack and its print. 096 turned toward them, the rage at having its face seen was too much for something as a mere erasure of existence to stop him from exacting revenge.

"You really had to look at that!" Complained Touma.

For once the man did not respond, simply hoping the boy would save him once more. Screeching the claws swiped once more near the man who only escaped them when Touma pushed him aside. 096 turned back its face at Touma and wailed even harder before barrelling toward the boy. He tried to place his hand to intercept it but before he could do so he was hit in the torso by the living cannonball that was 096. He hit one of the shelves, making it, and its content, fall on him.

That saved him from death as the gaunt enraged being used its claw once more but was slowed down by the metallic bar and the thick stacks of paper. However, it did not stop the sharp appendages to rip open his suit at the sternum. Touma cried in pain as he felt his skin being plowed by the claws, leaving shallow but thick gashes.

Noticing this barrier 096 just flipped it over, sending it in another corner of the room, crashing many other shelves. But by doing so it left an opening to Touma who managed to exploit it, swiftly thrusting his right hand at the being. He made contact with the dry ashen skin of the monster, and a

second afterwards the relieving sound of breaking glass rang.

He sighed, leaning on one of the toppled shelves, exhaling in relief. He looked down and saw a file. It had fallen from one of the shelves. His eyes widened as he saw the face of Oliver, with brown hair, but it was definitely him, there was even his name on the side. He suddenly remembered about the man and looked around. However, he was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, Oliver! Are you okay?" He called the man loudly.

He frowned when he heard no answer, he took Oliver's file and 096's pocket, being careful not to look at it. It was better to take it, so nobody would see it by mistake and would die, shredded in pieces by the maniac monster. That also brought another question. How did that thing ever managed to survive his Imagine Breaker? It should have been erased forever, never to be seen again. So why did it come back? That was an enigma to be solved later, right now he was more concerned about finding Oliver.

And bandaging his wound he realized he felt the pain come back as the adrenaline slowly disappeared. He also felt a bit tired, at least his misfortune gave him more endurance. He stepped once more into the cold corridors of Site-19, he was beginning to get sick of the place.

At least he didn't need the key card to open the archive's door as it was torn open. He looked around, one of the doors, the one they came from was ripped open while the other was normally opened. He decided to start his research by that side. He didn't have to look long, just as he entered this new hallway and took a turn, he saw Oliver, walking toward him.

"Hey there! Why did you ru-" He was about to ask when he noticed his face.

It was blank and stony. It reminded him of before he 'purged' whatever entity was possessing him. Without thinking he rushed to 9341 who now stood immobile before gently touching his head with his right hand. Oliver blinked two times as he realized he finally had his body back. He looked at Touma and with the sincerest expression, he could currently muster and thanked him.

As they continued their, what seemed eternal, march, Oliver's face crumbled.

"What happened? You ran away. Why?" Asked Touma.

The man gulped,..

"Uhmm, well, the thing... it possessed me once again... and uh... it made me flee. I had no control," he said.

Touma hummed, though he found it strange as the possessor did not run away when he came, he

thought it would have learned. Or maybe it was something else? Who knew?

Behind his screen, Josh grimaced. He had been observing the two's adventures for a while now, even filming it with a screen recorder. The game had transformed into some kind of movie and he had been enjoying it until 096 came for the second time. It had scared the bejesus out of him when the thing came crashing in the room. And had been scandalized when 9341, the character he should be controlling ran away like a coward, abandoning his partner. He had wrestled for the physical country of 9341. It was a classy way to say that he had spammed his keyboard.

But after some moments of resistance, he had managed to take control of it, just in time for the new SCP to catch up with his 'comrade'. He had been swiftly expelled, though this time his game didn't completely crash, it just went black for a few seconds before flickering back to life.

On the other hand, or rather dimension, Oliver was scared. Scared because he now knew that he would never be completely safe from possession. His only safeguard was the boy he had abandoned behind, or rather tried. At least he had managed to lie to him, so he still had this asset. For now, he decided to stick with Kamijou, now that 096 was gone it was his best shot at surviving.

A groan of pain, emitted by his partner drew his attention, and only at this instant did he realize the large cut that he sported.

"Oh, fuck. We better get you patched up." He said. He couldn't let his only hope die of something as stupid as blood loss so close to the end!

As such, they continued to navigate through the Site. A few minutes later two figures, one in a white lab coat, the other in a blood-soaked uniform arrived at the archive room. They witnessed the destruction, the claw marks but most of all the trail of blood.

Wanda Carter was now sure they were closing on Touma. All signs pointed toward an attack made by SCP-096, and nobody except him, with his power, could have survived against it. At least they both thought he seemed to have come out of it relatively well, there wasn't a lot of blood. Wanda had heard of entire squads and platoons getting shredded to pieces in the blink of an eye. And thus, they continued their way, following the trail of blood drops.

However, Oliver had found just what he needed. The elevator machine room. While there was nothing to do about the elevators the room held one object of interest. A first aid kit. Deftly the man sterilized the wound before quickly wrapping bandages around the boy. They exchanged no words part from a customary thank you from Touma to which he responded by a hum.

The two continued their way into the Site, with Oliver hoping to get the Level 5 card at 106's observation bay they went toward it. They were already a few corridors away when Mishimoto and Wanda arrived, finding an empty room with healing material used.

"Shit, where did he go?"

"He's probably trying to escape the facility or at least trying to get into contact with personnel. If I were him, I'd go to the Entrance Zone."

"Does he even know how to get there?" Questioned the soldier. "And could he even get in there?"

"Well, he could access the archives, so I guess he could access the checkpoint." Explained. Mishimoto.

"I see, we might have more chance to get him there." Said Wanda, acknowledging the proposition.

And like that, they went at the exact opposite of Touma's destination. As they neared the checkpoint Wanda's radio spat some words.

" _Humanoid SCP in EZ. Pursuing. 9TF-2-1 out."_ Came the voice from Nine-Tailed Fox's second squad leader.

The two looked at each other, that was probably their quarry. They went through the checkpoint, running to the EZ. However, what they didn't notice was that the door stood open, for all to enter. Indeed, the cyber fight over Site 19's control had severely damaged some of the controls and the electronic system leading to bugs such as this one.

Soon after it was a disappointed and perplexed Oliver that approached the checkpoint. Normally there was always a Level 5 key card inside 106's observation bay, however, this time he had come to find the room devoid of it. It had probably been taken by the mysterious people that had re-contained 106. While their identity was a mystery, he deduced they were Foundation personnel, the only ones who would benefit from this.

Well, after all, they were the only ones in this Site. And he severely doubted this was the work of another SCP like 035, or, he frowned, those strange people that sometimes kidnapped him at the end of some cycles or lives.

He was so enraptured in his thought that he didn't notice the wide-open checkpoint until Touma shook him by the arm. He looked quizzically before his jaw dropped. The Entrance Zone wide open? This was a golden opportunity, he could maybe even bypass the meeting with 079. Despite all his lives the thing still deranged him. There was just something with it... He didn't know what, just that it gave him the chills.

No time to think about that, he thought. He sprinted through the doors, Touma just behind him. Of course, at the moment the human SCP passed they closed, nearly crushing the boy's leg.

Oliver gritted his teeth, with the only entrance and exit cut off they were isolated to the Entrance Zone, they couldn't retreat to 079, the cafeteria or even SCP-914. At least he could still recuperate another Level 5 Card here, but they would have to navigate through the Site with 9TF on their tail. Tail eh. He thought with a mental chuckle.

But there was no time to think, only to act, or rather pray to find the good room. And for what seemed like the thousandth time the orange duo walked once again amidst the silent and white corridors.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Nine-Tailed Fox officer Xi Huang tackled his target, an orange-clad figure. Before the figure could recover, he crouched on it, pressing his knee on the middle of his back, he took hold of the two wrists before binding them together, uncaring of the small cry of pain coming underneath.

"Hey, hey, I surrender, don't be so-ah!-brutal!" Interjected the now arrested figure.

The officer stayed silent, only grunting loudly to signify to shut up. The pinned man obeyed keeping his mouth shut as the agent asked for reinforcement, tapping in Morse code on his radio.

Soon two other Nine-Tailed Fox agents came to take the man away, to safety, but most of all in their custody.

"Hey, look what I caught guys. We'll grill him later. Too bad he doesn't transform into popcorn." Joked the Asian soldier.

The two other soldiers chuckled while the man pinned underneath let out a series of ironic 'ha'.

Suddenly the three 9TF turned their weapons toward the entrance of the corridor where two other figures were coming in rushing. Sergeant Carter and Psychologist Mishimoto stormed in the corridors, stopping when they saw the weapons pointed at them.

"Identify!" Barked one of the soldiers.

They said their names as well as their cards, the three men observing them with a critical eye before nodding, still wary of the two.

"You wanted something?" Asked the second masked 9TF.

"Yeah, you said over the radio you caught a humanoid SCP, can we see him?" Asked Wanda.

"Well, yeah he is right there." Indicated Huang.

They dropped their eyes just below him, only to be met by the sight of a humanoid SCP. However, unlike there was something radically different between Touma and this SCP. Indeed Touma wasn't made of corn. The man, or rather anomaly restrained before them, was a human corn cob with the green ears to go along. That was definitely not their quarry.

"SCP-18642, the Corn Man, so fun eh!" Said the SCP, sarcasm thick in his voice. "Now could you kindly remove you effing knee from my back, it hurts!"

"Oh! Watch your tone!" Barked Huang before getting up and helping the human corn cob to his feet, who responded with a subdued 'aye chief'.

For the two women the search continued, soon a new sighting of orange-clad figures came on the radio.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Misfortune definitely plagued Touma. Just as the two entered a new corridor the door at the other side opened, letting pass three 9TF who upon seeing them opened fire near instantly. They barely had the time to avoid the bullets by hiding behind a corner.

The voices of the soldiers replaced the sound of guns.

"Hey, Class-Ds get out, you're going to die anyway!"

"C'mon, don't make us angry!"

At this Touma decided to gamble by announcing he was an SCP, after all, they wouldn't shoot him right. He came out of the corner, hands in the air but was nearly turned into mincemeat before he could say anything; Evidently, the soldiers were trigger happy, not a good start for negotiation.

As such he decided to try a second negotiation this time hidden and safe.

"I'm an SCP! Don't shoot!" He said.

The voices stopped as well as the slow advance of their possessor.

"Both of you come out, hands behind your head, no risky moves!" Ordered one of them.

Touma was about to so as ordered when he felt Oliver's hand on his shoulder. He turned to the man, quizzically before he whispered, panicked.

"They'll kill me!"

"What?"

"It's their orders!"

Touma was about to naively say that they wouldn't. After all what kind of people would shoot an unarmed surrendering man. He was, however, cut by the voice of the MTF personnel.

"Hey, you getting out or what?!"

Their advance resumed. Before they could catch them Touma asked what could very well be his last question.

"Would you kill the Class-D with me if he surrendered?"

The men stopped. Silence reigned. After a few seconds, their boots hit the floor once more. For the two of them, it was a denial. Touma was wordless but quickly composed himself.

"Let's go." He whispered to Oliver before breaking into a full sprint.

For a full second, the Class-D stood motionless. Why would this boy, someone he had barely met sacrifice his surest way out, and maybe his life just to save him? His mind soon decided that at the moment running was more important than trying to understand the complicated psyche of the human being known as Kamijou Touma.

"Take out the bald one!" Ordered the group leader.

He had correctly guessed that the one with the prisoner mandatory haircut was the Class-D. But despite the shots being directed at 9341, some bullets passed dangerously close to Touma. For once it seemed that Lady Misfortune had decided to play with another poor being, maybe a poor Kamijou Touma from another dimension.

And while a bullet had whistled near Oliver's ear, they were both unharmed as they finally managed to take cover behind another corner, though they did not stop running, engaging in other corridors.

"Fuck." Swore the group leader as they began running to catch up with the two escapees. "We'll have shooting training when we finish this shitshow! If some of those armed and escaped Ds attack us we're gonna have a bad time."

" _This is 9TF 3-1, I have a Class-D and a humanoid SCP resisting arrest and execution. Asking for reinforcement. Anomaly is a young male, black hair."_ He communicated by radio.

" _MTF Alpha-9 squad leader."_ Came a feminine voice. _"Coming to help you."_

He frowned, MTF Alpha-9 'Last Hope'? What the heck were they doing here? However, he welcomed the help.

" _Understood."_

" _Oh, and don't kill the anomaly or... well... I_ _would_ _prefer not to know."_ Announced the voice, deadly serious.

He gulped before looking at his running men.

"Don't fuck it up."

They acquiesced darkly. In the Foundation such words were not threats but promises, especially when concerning SCPs.

Meanwhile, the two had managed to find a good hiding spot, in the server room. It was a room filled with the aforementioned servers, tall towers of costly electronics machinery. And just before this room was a four-way crossroad. As such when the 9TF arrived they had to part way, each taking one corridor.

The group leader was the one who entered the server room. He tched as he realized his surrounding. He would have to be careful if he was forced to open fire, the brass wouldn't be happy if he started to destroy precious material. He looked around, they could be anywhere.

He decided to patrol the zone slowly but surely, as well as using the few psychological skills he had. People were likely to react when talked to after all. He had seen that the SCP was a young man, as such he decided to play this card.

"Hey, kid!" He called... silence. "Look, I don't want to hurt you, alright!" He began, training his rifles at the shadows as he passed through the rows of servers. "I got a daughter your age." For once this was true. "Do you really want to risk yourself for a criminal, at your age?! I know Foundation life ain't pretty but it's still life. I don't want to kill you."

He turned, sure to have heard something behind... Nothing. He continued;

"The guy you're with is probably one of the lowest scum of the earth, the kind I wouldn't want a mile near my little girl." He spoke, sincere emotion dripping in his voice. "They're rapists, they're killers, they're addicts, they're dangerous!"

He heard something shifts to his right, and slowly crept toward the location;

"He's going to die anyway! You're protecting the wrong kind of person. Now come out, and we'll sort this out!" he ordered before jumping where he had heard the noise.

Nothing.

He heard something behind him. He turned and was met by Touma's fist. He backpedaled, one of his mask's lenses cracked. Lucky for Touma he had managed to retain trigger discipline, had he, not the young boy might have lead in his body.

The soldier quickly recovered shaking his head before trying to hit the SCP with the butt of his weapon which the boy caught. The squad leader pressed his weight on Touma, trying to break his guard. He looked him straight in the eyes.

"Why?" He hissed.

"Because I won't let you judge who to kill and who to save." Replied the teen.

And at this moment Oliver... ran away, distracting Touma who heard the man leaving the room. They had planned together that Oliver would attack the soldier by behind. Touma's composure crumbled as he realized the betrayal.

As such he didn't see the muzzle of the rifle coming before it crashed on his face, making him back away in pain. He managed to avoid a kick to the knee in extremis before a Mawashi Geri sent him against a server where he slid down to the floor.

"I'm not the judge, kid. I'm the executioner." Replied the man coldly. "He already has a sentence. I'm only applying it."

He crouched near Touma before his hand approached his radio to communicate when the SCP's hand caught his, trying to stop him.

"Cute." The soldier took hold of Touma's hand twisting it. "I don't want to hurt you kid. Why help a man who abandoned you, uh!?" He asked;

"Because it's the right thing to do."

Behind the mask, the man's trait softened. The kid was so innocent, so naïve, it was truly endearing. But he doubted it would last long. His sorrow only grew when he compared him with his daughter. He would rather die than seeing something like that happen to her. Poor lad, he really was unlucky. But, he reminded himself, he had to be firm, show authority.

"Stop with that nonsense, it's going to get you killed!"

"I've been told that." Replied Touma cheekily.

Frowning the man was about to call his colleagues, to pursue the D and to help him secure this SCP when he felt something hit his back. He turned swiftly, eyes widening when he saw the Class-D standing behind him, in the excitement he must not have heard the man come back. For a second Oliver was confused like he had just woken up before he realized he was in front of an elite soldier very motivated to kill him. He launched a right hook at the man who fell on the side, unprepared for such an attack.

The 9TF didn't have time to call for help as he received a powerful kick in the head, stunning him before finally a second right hook from Touma knocked him out cold. Touma sighed in relief and rubbed his pained side. However, he was quick to recover when he saw 9341 take the soldier's knife.

"Why are you doing that?" He asked warily.

"Well, why do you think?" He asked as if it was evident.

"If you think of killing him, you're going to abandon that project of yours." Growled Touma. "I didn't trade his life for yours."

"Don't you understand he would have killed me! This is prevention." Hissed the man.

Touma frowned, now was really not the time to get on his nerves.

"He is unconscious and you're going to kill him? He poses no threat." Protested the teen.

"He would have done the same!" Countered Oliver.

"Then do not lower yourself to his level."

Oliver stood up, approaching Touma until their chest touched. He was taller than the boy and looked him down. The anomaly answered with a steely glare of his own.

"Ha, easy for you to say that you're not the one who's marked for death here."

"He has a family, think of it." Growled Touma, pushing way the man slightly.

Oliver was taken aback before his face twisted into a snarl.

"And I had a life before! They took it away from me! They killed my past! I'll kill them for that! Can you say the same?"

"Yes." Was Touma's simple answer.

"What?" Was Oliver's dumbfounded question, as he slowly backed away.

"I was dragged from my... normal... I suppose... life by the Foundation, well they didn't do it on purpose but still. And... yes my past was killed. Even before coming here I remember nothing of my fifteen of my past years." He revealed.

Oliver stood silent before this revelation, as he realized there was little difference between him and Touma. The only one was that he committed a crime while the boy had been brought here simply because he was different. He sighed and threw the knife on the ground.

"Alright, sorry about that, let's get moving." He said.

They left, leaving the unconscious soldier on the cold floor of the Site, but not before he opened the radio channel so his colleagues could come to pick him up. It was useless to save him just to leave him at the mercy of any roaming creature or vengeful D class.

As they began running away Touma could not help himself but ask.

"Why did you run away?"

Oliver felt a bead of sweat run down his cheek.

"Well... uh... I wanted to take him by surprise, he would have surely shot me if I approached him. If he thought I was fleeing he would let his guard down. It was a gamble but I trusted you." He finished his lie with a smile.

The truth was that he had attempted to flee like he already tried once. It was Josh, behind his screen, revolted at his behaviour who had brought him back in the fight. However, since the gamer knew he couldn't hit the MTF or even hurt him he had decided to gamble. As soon as he touched the back of the soldier, he had left the game. With a bit of luck, the actual Oliver would be back in control and would have no other choice than to fight.

Too bad he would never know that his gamble worked. This time when he launched the game, he couldn't continue his game and when he restarted one, the strange SCP wouldn't appear. He was further disappointed when his screen recording was corrupted and thus unviewable. He sighed, well at least it was the holidays.

Back in the Site the two companions were running, trying to get somewhere far from the 9TF agents.

 _'The escaped SCP and the Class-D accompanying it are ordered to surrender themselves to Foundation personnel or the use of physical violence will be authorized."_ Warned the P.A system.

The two nearly laughed at the announcement, as if physical violence wasn't already used. However, as they turned a corner, they fell face to face to other people. Or rather Touma fell body to body with one of them, sending the poor soul to the ground, the boy on top.

Oliver skidded to a quick halt when he found the barrel of a pistol staring down at him, throwing his arm in the air, closing his eyes. So, this was it? This was the end. All thing considered, maybe it wasn't that bad. A final end to the endless struggle he had come to know as life.

"You... are under arrest..." Strangely the voice strangely hesitated.

He opened one eye before him was a petite Asian scientist, gun to his face. However, he noticed her eyes weren't fixed on him but rather at her bottom right. He also noticed her uneased expression and though he was tempted for a second to try to make a run for it, he soon realized that with his life insurance currently on the ground he had no chance of escaping alive. As such he instead decided to look at what the said scientist was looking. On the floor was a tangle of limbs, some belonging to an unlucky boy and the others to a certain British soldier.

Touma's eyes fluttered open, meeting Wanda's entrancing emerald. They stood in that position, body pressed against one another before she broke the silence.

"Oh, there you are, you had me worried sick." Whispered the woman, barely audible.

Touma's eyes widened when he saw the blood drenched uniform she wore.

"Are you alright?" He asked, forgetting about their precarious position.

But before he could respond Mishimoto coughed professionally, or maybe sentimentally, making the two of them disentangle from one another, going back up on their flustered Wanda answered that she was alright before scrambling for her radio.

"Alpha-9 Squad Leader here, we've apprehended the loose Class-D and the SCP. Requesting permission to ex-filtrate the two objectives." She spoke in her radio, contacting Nine-Tailed Fox's commander.

" _Negative Alpha-9. Terminate D-Class first. But the SCP is authorized for ex-filtration."_ Replied the commander.

Oliver felt his stomach drop. He had been so close to escaping this place or to at least survive while falling once more into the clutches of the Foundation. But now it looked like his future would be a simple bullet in the cranium.

However, Wanda and Mishimoto glanced at Touma, still hesitant on how to act. And when he shook his head and joined his hand in a praying manner, Wanda made her decision.

"Negative sir, Class-D is unharmed and subdued, proposing extraction."

" _Once more, negative Squad Leader. This is a direct order. Terminate the Class-D and then extract the SCP."_

Mishimoto gestured to Wanda to let her speak.

"This is Ethics Committee Representative Mishimoto. By section five, subsection seven of the Foundation's Ethics Charter, during a Containment Breach, Class-Ds are to be treated as enemy soldiers." She recited. "However, according to section seven, subsection eight, a captured and compliant enemy soldier is to be treated as a Prisoner of War under the Geneva Convention until otherwise overruled by a Level 4 personnel but only if they consider this to be crucial to mission success. And personally, I wouldn't say that killing this D is crucial to mission success."

Outside the commander grimaced. While his orders, coming from the Site Director, had indeed been to kill every Class-D, he was, a Level 4 officer and as such able to override this rule, he could always make circumstances which would justify the murder of the D. But, because there was always a but, the girl was Ethic Committee. That meant he would be faced with an internal investigation and a potential demotion, sacking or even execution if they were really angry. He sighed, on one hand, it was disobeying a direct order, on the other, it was being faced with legal wrath.

As he was weighing which issue had the more con the radio crackled with life.

_"Commander, you have the authorization to keep this D alive."_

He looked at the radio, eyes wide. While the voice was distorted, he recognized it, it was the voice of the Site Director. He sighed in relief, at least his dilemma was over. But as he allowed Carter to take the D prisoner, he realized something. The man had been listening to the conversation. He was filled anew with anxiety as he realized he had probably heard the jokes he made about him... he really was unlucky.

In the Entrance Zone, the group of four approached the exit, finally, after so many times spent chasing after shadows and walking in corridors, hoping to get somewhere, they could finally leave the damned Site. Oliver had been cuffed and Wanda was currently holding him at gunpoint. After a few minutes of walking, they arrived before a large blast door with Gate A marked upon it.

"This is Alpha-9, requesting the opening of Gate A." Asked Wanda in her radio.

A few seconds later a voice answered.

" _Granted, report to Mobile Command for further orders."_

The large door shook before slowly sliding open. Finally, they could enter the last room before the outside world. It was barren with only an elevator in front. They entered the lift and as the doors closed, a loud roar was heard, shaking the elevator.

_"Attention all units, I repeat, attention all units! We have reports of SCP-682 coming near Gate A. All non-combat personnel are to evacuate the zone."_

**A CERTAIN SCP**


	19. When Things Go Right(?)

All of them disgusting.

Destroy. Harm. Kill. It hurts. Destroy. Harm. Kill. It hurts! Destroy! Harm! Kill! It hurts! Destroy! Harm! Kill! IT HURTS! DESTROY! HARM! KILL! IT HURTS! _DESTROY! HARM! KILL! IT HURTS!_ **DESTROY! HARM! KILL!**

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Shit." Swore Wanda and Mishimoto.

The lift opened its doors, and the four stepped out of it. They were greeted by the clear atrium of Gate A, bathed in sunlight with a glass cupola above. A bridge linked the atrium to the outside world where a dozen of soldiers was posted as well as heavy equipment such as heavy machine guns, grenades launcher and the HID cannon.

The natural light nearly blinded the four, who were now used to the dim artificial lighting of Site-19. However, there was no time to waste.

"Come on, let's go!" Interjected Wanda, running toward the bridge.

"Eh, wait up a bit." Yelled Oliver, having difficulty to run while restrained.

Groaning the soldier took him by the arm and dragged him while sprinting as fast as she could.

"What's 682?" Asked Touma, turning to Mishimoto.

She shook her head.

"Didn't have time to read about it, but..." She trailed off. "It's not good news."

He nodded, he wouldn't be surprised if it was some kind of monster that couldn't die... Why did it felt so right and wrong to say that? As they began stepping foot on the bridge, the Site shook once more and the roar ever closer was heard.

" _ALL NON_ _-_ _COMBAT UNIT PULL OUT! THIS IS A DIRECT ORDER, I RESCIND ALL PREVIOUS ORDER_ _S_ _, LOWER OR HIGHER! ALL COMBAT UNITS PREPARE FOR HEAVILY ARMOURED ENGAGEMENT!"_ Yelled the radio.

Below the bridge was a very large road like a boulevard, where dozens of soldiers ran around, some throwing last-minute cover such as sandbags, machine guns and even an auto-cannon. At each side of the road was a large steel blast door, leaving a thirty-metre space between the two.

"We need to get out, let's go." Said Wanda

But soon noises could be heard. Walls crumbled, doors were ripped, everyone froze and tensed. Then below the bridge, the wall of the Site exploded. Chunks of concrete smashed in the soldiers, crushing some to death.

All guards and soldiers pointed their gun at the hole in the wall, enveloped in thick darkness. For a moment silent reigned. Nothing came out of it. One of the guards accidentally fired a burst of bullets while another prayed. Time passed, stretching seconds in minutes before finally something appeared.

A large reptilian leg went beyond the wall both the material one and the one of shadow, and soon all weapons barked in a deadly cacophony. The chorus of small arms formed an ear-grating legato while the staccato of the autocannon joined the orchestra. Only the grenade launchers stood silent, not having enough of a target to fire.

"Cease fire!" Shouted the leader after five seconds of raining lead.

The leg had disappeared. Only blown bits of it could be seen, red tissues, blood and bones splattered the surrounding.

"Did we get it?" Hopefully asked a soldier.

"Well, at least it's wounded." Answered another.

Truth to be told nearly none of them knew what it was capable of. And even those who did haven't had full access to the details, those who actually had full knowledge of its capacities or those who had already fought against it were either not here, dispersed through the Site or already dead or incapacitated.

"You!" The squad leader called a nearby and random guard. "Scout the area." He pointed at the hole in the wall.

The security officer pointed at himself in surprise before stuttering and looking around to find support. He only found backs turned to him and colleagues ignoring him, as well as the leader's death glare.

Hesitantly he made his first step toward the hole, while the leader actually walked away, placing himself at the back. The guard was now nearing the hole, rifle in hand, he placed his back against the wall before taking a look into the hole. There was nothing, only darkness and silence.

"I- I think it's go-"

He couldn't finish his sentence when a spiked tentacle went through him. Dumbfounded at first he looked at the piercing appendage. He could only scream as it pulled him in the hole. A sound of flesh-slicing and bone-crunching sickened the guards before the sound of mastication, and finally of retching.

All paled. Even the four on the bridge who had stopped running to look at the show down below. And soon it emerged from the hole. Long and large, maw covered in blood, scales glistening and body parts for all to see. It opened its large mouth, revealing three rows of bloodied fangs before growling, its eight eyes turning to a certain SCP on the bridge.

" **Disgusting."**

And chaos ensued. The platoon leader uttered the order to fire and all weapons obeyed. Hundreds of bullets and a couple shells landed on the beast, explosions and smoke covered the area but none stopped. Fingers only left the trigger to reload.

But it was not enough. Roaring even louder the beast charged through the storm of projectiles. The first line of guards broke formation, running away rapidly, some unluckily dying to their comrades' bullets as they walked in their lines of fire.

Some others were swept away by claws or tentacles and the unluckiest one devoured alive.

The massive body was still being shredded away by the heavier equipment, making the thing howl in pain. Grenades soon joined the fray but still, it only upset the thing even more. While parts of the already exposed body were vulnerable to bullets, the scales could only be harmed by the grenades. In the best case they broke the scales, but mostly they left some dents.

One of the grenades managed to land right on 682's face, stunning him for a surprisingly long time, a second. The shrapnel of the projectile even wounded some close guards. But the monster continued its anger not satiated, in the slightest.

The second line being already broken it was the third's turn to do so, then the fourth. The fifth line, composed of the most damaging weapons fired for all they were worth, trying to touch the already weakened part of the beast. But to no avail, and despite the interdictions of the platoon leader, they retreated.

"Cowards! Come back here! Stay here! THIS IS AN ORDER! STAY AND FIGHT OR I'LL KILL YOU MYSELF!" He bellowed amidst the fleeing personnel, but few obeyed.

To illustrate his words, he drew his pistol and shot one of the retreating guards in the head. While some stood like he ordered the vast majority ignored the man and continued to flee, further bolstered when the overall commander called for a retreat.

"Retreat!? Unacceptable! I will c-" Shouted back the platoon leader to the commander before something cut him off.

" **What will you do?"** It asked, twisted humour filling the words.

The man turned around to see the beast's jaws centimetres away from him yelling and swearing he swivelled his sidearm at the monster who stood immobile, grinning before he fired at the thing's eyes. The bullets bounced off. He continued shooting, futilely, even when the clip had run out.

And then he knew no more as he was taken by the terrible jaws, thrown in the air and swallowed nearly whole.

"Oh, fuck, let's get out of here." Said Wanda, finally able to break away from the morbid show.

She turned to see the more than agreeing faces of Mishimoto and Oliver, but something was missing. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Touma run towards the stairs leading to the road.

"Goddamit, come back here!" She yelled, sprinting in pursuit.

However, as she began to descend the stairs, she was blocked by the stream of fleeing soldiers climbing them. Powerless she saw the boy heading straight to the monster where a few guards had sacrificed themselves to buy time for their comrades.

Touma had felt it. When the monster bore its eyes on him, he had felt it. It wanted him. Or maybe his Imagine Breaker. He frowned, the damn thing always brought him and others trouble and harm. He would have to make amends for that. This thing needed to be stopped.

As he pushed through the stream of retreating security officers who didn't try in the slightest to arrest him, he could hear the screams of Wanda and Mishimoto. They both called him to come back or demanded to the guards to stop him. He shut them out.

Retreated in the shadows, unseen by all, eyes observed him. A smile found its way on the face.

"Always so foolish, you won't change."

Junior Officer Hawa Ascofare was sent flying by 682, she crashed on the back, dazed before she could do anything, she saw it approach and raise its claws above her. At least her poor mother would receive enough money to treat her illness.

But the claws never came. They stopped inches away from her.

" **Ah... Finally..."** 682's hoarse voice rang.

"If you have a problem with me, leave them alone and fight me!" Yelled the boy.

Now uninterested in the guard 682 crept toward Touma. The woman didn't hesitate to run away as fast as she could and soon, she was long gone.

It chuckled.

" **A problem... I have it with every last of you wretched thing. But you... you..."** It roared, eyes aflame with anger. **"I will make you suffer... you will thank me when I end your pathetic existence."**

Touma in gulped and sighed shoulder sagging.

"What have I ever done to you?" He asked, still curious of this sickening hate.

" **You exist!"**

Well, at least it was very straightforward, it wasn't a complicated motive thought Touma. But why he hated his guts and apparently humanity's was another mystery. He didn't have time to think about the reasons for such profound loathing as the decayed reptile advanced toward him, gaining more and more momentum.

Touma considered 682. It was probably a supernatural being, well no it was a supernatural being, nothing like that could exist naturally. As such a simple touch with his right hand would make 682 vanish. Seemed easy as the reptile was barrelling toward him.

He took support on his knees, ready to spring to the side when the thing would charge him and touch its side. He waited, sweat rolling down his temple while multiple eyes observed him, directly or indirectly.

The ground shook as the powerful legs beat the asphalt, even cracking it. And soon the fury of an eldritch abomination pounced on Touma. The terrible maw, dripping with drool tried to snap at the boy, but being already prepared he jumped to the side, the powerful maw snapping near him. The tentacle on the side also tried to harm him but it only passed above him as he ducked. Finally, he launched his hand at one of 682's scale and touched it;

His face twisted with a smile as he felt and heard victory, the scale vanished with the sound of breaking glass. But one thing was wrong. Only the scale vanished. He looked to realize that the monstrous being was still there. And he had no time to think more when its tail, thankfully not the bladed part sent him flying. He landed on the road, rolling and tumbling. He coughed as he got back up, his wary eyes seeing the Hard To Destroy Reptile approaching, licking its jaw like he was seeing a feast. Thinking about it, it probably was.

Meanwhile, in the command centre, the overall commander, Commander Brint looked at the video-feed before him with widened eyes, if he hadn't been employed by the Foundation, he would have never believed what he was seeing. A lone SCP, a human one was battling 682, and it wasn't Cain. No, it was a young Asian boy. Damn, if he had to admit something it was that the mad lad had balls. Or a will to die, though the two often went together.

But the fact that the kid made one of 682's scale disappear was strange. That was a question he doubted he would ever know the answer to. But if one thing was clear, it was the fact that this boy might be the key to a temporary or permanent neutralization of 682. And as a Commander, it was his duty to ensure that.

"Anemoi Squadron, all previous orders are rescinded, get back to base immediately." He ordered.

He had called a squadron of five supersonic 'Super Hornet' attack jet to neutralize, or at least slow down 682 but with Touma, in the middle, he could not risk such explosive friendly fire.

" _Understood, sir."_ Came the pilot's muffled voice. _"Returning back to base."_

Now. He couldn't let the boy without support. He would be shredded.

"Stribog Squadron, you are to provide Close Air Support ASAP our forces at Gate A, prepare anti-armour equipment. Watch out for friendlies, the humanoid SCP is with us, his survival is a priority. I repeat the humanoid SCP's survival is a priority."

" _Orders received and understood. Preparing. Taking off in 2 minutes, Stribog-1 out."_

Two minutes later three Ka-52 Alligator-Class helicopter took off from a nearby airbase, transporting powerful weaponry.

Now while it was riskier, having ground support would be beneficial.

"1st and 2nd Armoured platoons, 4th Guard Platoon and all 9TF squads you are authorized to engage SCP-682, as well as to give cover."

" _Roger that, departing now."_ This was followed by a chorus of agreement

It was time for eight Merkava Mark IV tank to roll from the armour hangar, heading for Gate A.

Now, no assault was fully made without infantry. And according to the command chain... With the First Officer missing, the second occupied, the third dead, and Gate A's platoon leader gone as well as much of their Non-Commissioned Officer... It was between Sergeant Wanda Carter and Sergeant K- Oh, no he was killed.

So that left her with platoon's command. He decided to contact her so she could take command of the situation.

Wanda was overlooking the road where the two SCPs were fighting. She had no idea if she should intervene or let the whole thing unfold. She was taken out of her dilemma when her radio turned on.

" _Sergeant Carter, this is Commander Brint, you're in control of this platoon. Engage 682, protect SCP-... Zero and hold on until reinforcements arrive. Good luck."_ Announced the voice.

Then, the entire platoon received the message, she was their commander. All eyes turned on her. All anxiously awaited her orders. She took a look down below and saw Touma being whacked by 682's tail. She made her choice.

"Draw 682's attention, fire at what you can and protect SCP-Zero, give him the chance to touch 682!" She ordered.

Hesitantly at first, the soldiers began to post themselves at certain places on the bridge and after seeing their temporary commander throwing herself into the fight. Indeed, instead of just staying above she went downstairs and was currently firing her pistol at 682.

The being broke its focus away from Touma to look at the annoying humans who had dared to come back. It turned its eyes to Wanda, the closest but soon a barrage of grenades coming from above shifted its attention once more. He lifted one of its legs and swiped the air with it. Three of its scales, bigger than a human's hand, flew from its body and pierced the men above.

Wanda ducked behind the concrete guardrail of the stairs as multiple shells came flying her way. The other guards were soon killed or had to retreat under a rain of harder than steel scales.

" **Now... That the-"** It was interrupted when the guards resumed their suppressive fire but once again the shells forced them back to cover.

The being groaned, developing new pairs of eyes and new appendages to keep throwing his deadly projectiles without having to shift its focus.

" **Now that it's the two of us... Come, human, face your doom. I have adapted... Just for you..."**

Touma for his part had recovered from the throw and was once again preparing to engage 682, but most of all to dodge its scales. He was surprised when the being continued to march toward him, rather slowly, and did not launch anything. It chuckled.

" **Oh no, human, I want to crush you myself... I want to see your body broken before mine..."**

At least it was foolish enough not to use the best method of elimination. Touma knew his best chance to defeat the thing was, unfortunately, to get the closest so he could touch 682. He charged, surprising the beast who observed him with an amused eye.

It sent one of its tentacles in a piercing way, which he avoided, just like the second which came like a whip. Both times he tried to touch them but they retracted just before. Finally, he neared 682, who was a meter away, it stopped, letting him come. And while he was barely half a meter away 682's neck grew by dozens of centimetres. Opened jaws were propelled toward Touma who barely managed to drop on the ground on his hands like one would do push-ups. The fangs snapped just above him, but he took advantage of that. He threw his right hand in the air, trying to touch the beast's head.

Success! He felt his finger touch the cold steely scale which composed its body. He also felt it disappear, but once again 682 stood, its body still above Touma. The beast's claws tried to tear him to ribbons but he pushed with his left hand, the one still on the ground, and managed to quickly get out of the way, the large talons embedding themselves in the asphalt.

Then he had to roll on the ground to avoid being crushed by the tail as it slammed on the ground, leaving a crater. Using his momentum Touma managed to get back on his feet, but he had no time to do anything except dodging as the three rows of fangs neared him.

He backpedalled, putting distance between him and the killing machine. What was happening, why wouldn't his hand work?

It roared this time with laughter.

" **It seems you have lost your wits, Imagine Breaker!"**

Touma was taken aback, how did this thing know about him? He was sure that he hadn't talked about it.

 **"Do not act so surprised... You thought your coming hadn't been felt…? You thought nobody would act? You really thought we would let you... I thought you smarter... Coming back after your defeat."** The voice was thick with anger.

"Defeat? Wh-"

" **Enough! Do not act innocent! Now is time for you to die!"**

The exchange was cut short when the being resumed the hostilities, sending its piercing tentacles toward Touma, forcing him to dodge. Bullets pinged against the organic armour and scales were promptly thrown at them.

Touma tried once again, this time he decided to flank 682, ducked underneath its claws and avoided the tail, he was beginning to discern the pattern between the beast's attacks. Tentacles then bite followed by claws and the tail. He threw his right hand at the beast, this time he decided to aim for another part, one on which its burnt flesh was exposed.

Jumping to take hold of it, he felt his fingers dig in the crisped skin before it disappeared. But again, the being was still there. As he tried to jump back the claws reaped him in the legs mid-flight, sending him tumbling down on the ground. He managed to get back up, just in time to avoid one of the tentacles. The wound was shallow, as the only the tips had managed to sink into his skin.

" **Yes! Finally! It feels so... good!"**

Its hoarse laughter filled his ears. What was happening? Why wouldn't his hand work? Nevertheless, he steeled himself. If he had to eliminate that thing piece by piece he would do so.

" **Foolish... Immature..."** It taunted, before contracting its muscles and jumping toward Touma.

The ground shattered under the massive beast and the unlucky boy narrowly escaped the falling body. He was then assaulted by the beast's multiple appendages. As one of the tentacles came his way, he managed to grip it with his right hand, and just as he did he saw it being detached, ejected from 682's main body.

The tentacle disappeared. And the reptile was still there. Touma jumped back, avoiding 682's different attacks. As he managed to put distance between the two of them, Touma finally realized what had happened. Every time he had managed to touch 682's body this one had simply ejected part of its body, preventing him from completely erasing it.

He had thought for a moment that it was a being nearly immune to his effect. At least this was a good new, that meant he only had to touch 682 proper. Maybe he could deceive it, make it seem like he was going for scale A when he was going for scale B. That c-.

He was cut from his thought when something exploded on 682, sending ripples in the air. The reptile howled in pain as a missile managed to pierce its carapace, sending explosives into its body. With a sizeable hole in its body, but still alive, the being turned its eyes to the sky where three helicopters, flying tanks, began to fire their missiles.

The armour piercing explosive rockets flew toward the monsters, who answered by sending a flurry of scales toward them. Most rockets were intercepted and exploded while in the air but a few did detonate on or near 682. Out of the six sent, only one reached its targets, creating a short-lived geyser of flesh. Then it was 682's turn to answer, dozens of scales were sent toward the helicopters. Most missed their targets, the pilots manoeuvring out of their way but some did land a hit. While most only did superficial damage, not able to pierce the helicopter's armouring. However, one of them did find its way in the third helicopter's rotors, sending it turning to the ground. The pilots managed to eject before their aircraft crashed.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Wanda gesturing him to come to hide with her, his hesitation didn't last long as she personally rushed toward him, forcefully grabbing him by the collar like a child and dragged him to cover.

Then it was the time for the tanks to arrive. From each opening blast door came four Merkavas, motor roaring finally arrived at the scene. Their great guns and missile launchers fired as soon as they could. This time no shot was missed, the tanks were barely a dozen metres away from the thing. The explosions rattled the air. The scales sent as a response did nothing against the tanks reactive armour.

682 took a deep breath and roared a roar that shouldn't exist. Touma felt his ears strain as he tried to cover them. However, his efforts were futile when he felt hot blood flow from them. He could still hear but there was a constant buzzing noise. At least it stopped a few seconds later.

While the tanks were reloading new projectiles were launched toward them. 682's disembodied tail burrowed itself in the lead tank, killing its driver and gunner and destroying its transmission. Then the other received claws, spikes and even fangs, which were much harder than the scales. Those parts had been developed a long time ago by 682, compared to the relatively new scales, and thus had a more solid composition of both natural and supernatural elements.

Soon the lethal vehicles were transformed into iron-clad hedgehogs, all except one or two had been rendered inoperable. The surviving crew member quickly evacuated their wreck, and the remaining tank gave them cover, all the while continuing with their shelling.

Meanwhile, the helicopters in the sky didn't have the time to unload their entire wrathful arsenal as the second's cockpit was cut open by scales, their pilots too. The third on the other hand had one of its wings ripped off by one of 682's spikes and had to retreat.

However, 682 hadn't come out unscathed. Large sections of his body lacked scales, letting screed and charred flesh or even fuming organs. Large quantities of blood fell on the ground, it missed its claws, tail and fangs. But nonetheless, the beast was still powerful, even more so as it began growing back all of it lost body parts, faster than ever. Already, a few seconds later a dozen scales had covered back exposed part of the body and its dreaded claws and fangs had grown back.

However, what it didn't know was that during that brief moment of respite for Touma, this one had come up with a plan. As soon as the storm of fire and iron had stopped, the young boy leapt from his cover and went straight to 682, something in his hand.

The being eyed him both wary and weary, but its determination to see the Imagine Breaker suffer still there. Nonetheless, the boy stopped a meter away from him, just before its face. And he showed what he had in his hand. And the reptile panicked. It was a picture. Of the face of pale white being.

682 tried to tear down the image but Touma dodged. The sound of wailing, screaming and broken walls and doors got closer and closer until from the ground leapt SCP-096.

Every human in the vicinity averted their eyes, unwilling to risk the wrath of the Shy Guy. Only the sound of the battle informed them of what happened. They heard it all.

They heard as 096 cannonballed toward 682, his long claws ploughing and ripping off its scales, where modern weapons had trouble. They heard as the flesh was stripped. They heard when the gaunt humanoid was thrown backwards, leaving its imprint on the wall.

The fight continued for who knew how long. It could have been minute or hours but everyone trembled as the two anomalies fought a biblical battle. 096 ripped chunks of biomass, uncaring of its own wounds, even as one of his arms was bitten off, they kept going.

The reptile tried to swallow 096, growing teeth and grinders in its throat and acid digestive system. At first, the pale being was crushed but soon it began to claw its way out, bisecting the beast. Even as both were weary and at the gates of death itself, they continued, neither willing to stop until one was definitely beaten. The humanoid kept leaping toward 682 and tearing him to pieces despite having nearly all of its bones broken and deep gashes. The other continued to defend itself with ferocity, using its razor-sharp parts and weight to crush or cut its opponent despite being cut in half and cut up.

Finally, after an hour of constant fight 682 managed to grows four pincers, including two which possessed long rake like protuberances complemented with barbs. The reptile managed to clamp 096's legs and held it above it, before slowly dragging its raked pincers, slowly stripping the muscles from 096's bones. Despite its struggling and trashing the gaunt being had lost much of its strength already. When everything was peeled from its bones, including its organs, except the brain, a still moving 096 was then thrown and crushed on the ground. And despite an absence of lungs, trachea, and tongue it still screamed.

As its broken body was flattened on the ground, 096 admitted defeat. The rest of its body, the thorax and what was above crawling, sobbing, away from a nearly defeated 682. The reptile slumped on the ground, having finally won a pyrrhic victory.

Slowly, Touma headed to 096's skeletal remain, which was slowly, very slowly growing back bones and muscles. He touched it, making it disappear for the third time.

One of 682's remaining eye opened, as the boy approached. Weakly it tried getting back up, but its legs gave in, some broken and the others too weary or fragile to support its weight.

" **C-C-Coward... Y-y-you..."** It gurgled, cut mid-sentence as blood filled its trachea.

Touma frowned.

"Do not call me a coward." He seethed. "You are the one who kills innocents weaker than you who can barely harm you!"

A muffled laughter came from the being.

" **W-w-who... knew... tha-a-at the Ima-g-g... ine Breaker w-"** It threw up blood **"would l-** **lecture** **me about m... orality."**

Steadily Touma approached the reptile who tried his best to get away without any success, as it could barely mobilize any muscle. In vain it tried to launch the last of its scale at Touma who stopped it mid-flight with his right hand.

As the boy neared the beast, he could hear it faintly moan, despair seeping in its voice. Touma swore it pleaded, saying no over and over again.

"Why?" The simple question fell again.

682 stopped its useless movements, boring his eyes in Touma's.

" **B-because... Y-y-ou are all... disgusting... T-this is m-m-meant t-to be... Imagine Breaker... Y-you s-should know..."**

"What do you mean!?" Yelled Touma.

He was getting sick of vague answers, he was getting sick of people dying, he was sick of those damn mysteries!

"Stop with that!" He ordered. "Now you're going to tell me why you kill all those people and why you want to kill me!" He roared defiantly.

A few soldiers had come closer, interested in the conversation.

" **B-Because... This... is... my... purpose."** It gurgled, organic matters still pouring from its maw.

"And what!? You kill people just because you have a preconceived idea about what your life should be for? We define our existence by our choices. You could be so much more! You have such power, think of the good you could do!"

" **Y...you dare... y-y-you dare** **lecture** **... ME!** **About -whizz- good and... bAD!"** It growled.

This again! Had 682 ever met an old possessor of the Imagine Breaker? Maybe they had fought before.

"What have I ever done to you?"

" **Y-You... know... very... well what I... mean."**

Silence reigned for a few seconds. Seconds when everyone was beyond tensed. Then the boy's honesty kicked in.

"No, I do not. And I doubt I ever will. But whatever your reasons, I will not let you hurt more innocents." Announced Touma while approaching 682.

He had understood that no amount of negotiation would change it. In a way, it was like him. Where he would always protect, uncaring of the person. 682 would always kill, regardless of the person. It was even more strong-headed than Othinus. There was no redeeming for it, it was not human neither did it reason like one. Its justifications for its cruel actions would always stay its, no more no less.

As he approached the beast it still tried to escape but soon the boy put his hand on 682's head. It peeled off the layer composing it, trying to escape the dooming right hand. It was the turn of the cranium to break away from 682's main body. Even bits of the brain would part from 682. But soon, Touma found something, it was black and pulsing, attached to the brain like a tumour.

And as Touma touched it the being let out its last roar. This time one of deep despair. And soon its entire body disappeared, including the parts cut from the main body. After the sound of shattering glass rang, silence fell.

Dozens of eyes looked at the empty place where 682 was lying a few seconds ago, waiting for something. Nobody dared to move, fearful of breaking what they viewed as a dream. No, it was beyond a dream, nobody would have ever thought this could happen. Touma looked around, meeting the bewildered eyes of the Site's guards.

"What?" He broke the silence.

This was it. A roar broke the silence. This time it was a human roar, made of dozens and dozens of cheering guards, as their latest source of fear and stress disappeared. Many climbed down the stairs to greet the boy. They pounced on him, some uttering their thanks, others cheering him or asking him questions. Touma was taken aback, unable to cope with the crowd that had formed around him. But he was soon pulled from the crowd by Wanda and Mishimoto and was then protected by a small group of guards who managed to keep their cool. He met the eyes of Oliver who looked at him with a mixture of admiration and fear.

In his command centre, Commander Bring slumped in his chair, exhaling before cheering. So many good soldiers who had been lost had been avenged! Too many... But no more, he thought, promising to pay that back to the SCP.

"Zero! Zero! Zero!' Began to chant the soldiers.

This day and his name would go down in Foundation's history, fuck Bright and Kondraki, that guy was the real deal, was basically a summary of the guards' thoughts. And despite himself, Touma couldn't help but feel himself smile. He was never one to go for the praise but he would lie if he said it didn't feel nice. He looked around, seeing the excited face of Mishimoto, she opened her mouth to say something but then something happened.

The roar was heard. The roar which had terrorized so many. All froze. Then it disappeared. Then it came back. Then it vanished. Then it rang again. Then it faded. Only to fill the air once more.

Touma broke through the crowd of now frozen soldiers, as they slowly began to turn toward the source of the sound. And he saw it. 682 was there, just like before it vanished, its hot yellow eyes throwing him a death glare. And it disappeared. Leaving no trace of existence. And a second later it re-appeared.

It opened its mouth to speak.

" **I..."**

It disappeared.

" **Will..."**

Vanished.

" **Al..."**

Faded.

" **...Ways..."**

Gone.

" **Pre..."**

Erased.

" **...Vail."**

And it continued like that, fading in and out of existence every second. This time Touma stumbled back, his conception of his Imagine Breaker definitely put in question again. Two times, it had already been defied, two times! And as he witnessed the flickering being, he could only think of one thing.

"What the hell?"

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Well, that's a mess."

Eyes glued to his monitors The Administrator was looking at different part of Site-19, but most importantly the road where SCP-682 was. The Administrator considered the situation. He knew that getting rid of it was impossible but he did have a small hope. He hadn't expected that... But after all, it made sense. The Hard to Destroy Reptile couldn't die, but Imagine Breaker erased the supernatural. Two rules clashed. The unmovable object and the unstoppable force. And that was the response that the universe had deemed acceptable. He sighed.

 _'Rebuild 682's Containment around his current location."_ He sent the proposal to the Ethics Committee, though he doubted they would refuse, as of now it seemed like displacing SCP-682 would be impossible.

He had also already ordered the destruction of all pictures and representations of SCP-096, except for those held by himself, the Ethics Committee, the O5s as well as MTF Epsilon-11. This also extended to a,y representations in rival or ally hand.

He leaned back in his chair, at least, he thought, 096 and 173 are out for now, before coughing. And again. After a series of violent coughs, The Administrator took his agenda, checked his schedule before placing a 'special visit' for soon. He then looked at today's schedule.

'Operation Evaluation.'. Ah yes, that. He sent a message to one of his doubles, someone who acted like him, to transmit the message to Lerouge. It was time to see what those magicians could do. Really strange that Aleister had only sent magicians... strange... Wait hadn't he sent Espers? He checked back his files. No, indeed, Misaka Mikoto, her five clones, Accelerator and Motoharu were indeed magicians. Huh, he had probably confused the documents with some other. They were probably one of Crowley's pet project.

Anyway, before he forgot he also sent a message to his other agents at Site-19. After consideration, maybe he could be useful. If Zero lacked something it was motivation to fight for them, already he considered letting the soldiers cheer him on to give him some morals and a sense of belonging and now he would give him a carrot to chase. He smiled, ah, it was like the good ol' days.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Oliver had been observing the flickering being that was SCP-682 when two men in navy blue suits with sunglasses had come to grab him. The guards had protested at first, but they had become docile when one of the agents, he supposed, showed them his credentials. They had acquiesced before quickly retreating, even throwing a pitied look.

He had tried to question the two men but they were staying silent. They brought him to another part of the Site before taking an elevator which lead them to a helipad. There they stuffed him in a black civilian helicopter. Inside was a golden retriever which wore a dark suit and a black tie and sported square glasses. It observed him with a collected but human gaze.

As the doors closed and the engine roared to life, the usually deafening sound being reduced to a mere buzzing, Oliver looked at the dog. It looked back. Oliver dared not to speak, afraid of the consequences.

"A pleasure to meet you, I am Doctor Pathos Crow, and you are Oliver Parker."

Parker only answered, with a nod and a gulp, though Crow had uttered a statement rather than a question. At this point a talking dog with a suit wasn't really shocking him, it was more the fact that it was a doctor and that he was pretty much at its mercy.

"We are going to do great things together." Smiled the dog, glasses flashing. "But first."

He took something from his pocket, in a rather deft fashion despite its paw, a long syringe with the words 'Class-X mnestic'. And before he could do anything, Oliver realized he was now paralysed. He could do nothing as the syringe pierced his arms, injecting its content in his veins. And before he blacked out, he heard the retriever speak.

"Welcome back, doctor."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Doctor Shinozawa was looking at his patient. The male androgyne albino known as 'Accelerator'. For now the Number 1 of Academy City was laying on a hospital bed, numerous machines connected to his body.

Apparently, his patient had a brain problem which came in the form of bullet fragments which had severely damaged the boy's processing capacities, to the point that he couldn't walk or even talk. The bizarre Japanese clone had explained to him how his choker once connected him to a Network which allowed his brain to do all the calculations needed for him to live.

Thinking of this he should probably call an expert in robotics and cybernetics to heal his patient, thought Shinozawa. He would place a demand for such an expert as soon as he could, for now, he would ensure his survival.

Meanwhile, in another area of Armed Site-54, the dimensions hopper, minus Accelerator were assembled in a large dorm. After a moment of concentration, Styil managed to make a flame appears in his hand. He sighed. He didn't dare to try to invoke Innocentius, his fiery monster, due to their situation.

It was rather hard to work his magic, the flow of magic here was vastly different. Othinus and he had in these couple of days experimented and tried to manipulate their magic. They had found that while in their original world Mana, which fuelled every spell a magician cast, was found inside one's own body, here Mana, or what could compare to it was different. While they did retain some Mana, as usual, they had trouble to refine it into a spell. One could compare their situation to half blind puppies trying to walk upright after being in their mother's womb. They needed to grow and learn how to walk quickly or endanger themselves.

However, here, Mana was also found in the air. The energy seemed to exude from ley lines. Ley lines were spiritual and magic invisible and underground lines which linked sites of spiritual and magical significance together. They were directly connected to the earth and the supernatural world. Once again, while ley lines did exist in their home dimensions those were like small veins, hard to detect and barely transporting energy. Here it was different. They were like exposed and gorged arteries, exuding energy for all to see. The problem was manipulating it, they could barely grasp the Mana they diffused.

The energy was very different to both catch and to refine, it could barely qualify as Mana, but it was still there.

At least, thought Styil he didn't overly rely on the theory of the Idol, which allowed something bearing a strong resemblance to another one, to borrow or imitate a part of the power of the original. An often-cited example would be religious symbols, a church's cross did possess, a part of the power of the original upon which the Christ was killed, albeit it was an extremely small part. The more resembling the replica the more powerful it was.

But both Othinus and Kanzaki relied on it for most of their abilities. Othinus was supposed to represent Odin, the Nordic god of sorcery and king of Valhalla. Meanwhile, Kanzaki was supposed to be one of the closest representations of the son of God, or even God itself. But it seemed the originals of this world were more different than theirs, which in a way put in question Styil's and Kanzaki's faith and belief in the nature of their God. Anyway, to summarise, the two had lost quite a bit of power, and while Kanzaki was still capable of superhuman feats and that Othinus was still capable of flight and spell casting, both of their power had been reduced.

There could also be the fact that, according to a Japanese guard that Japanese Christians were also even rarer, representing less than zero point five percent of the population whereas they were more numerous in their dimension. There could also be the fact that the Amakusa Church could also not exist in this world. Furthermore, a Saint's power was also linked to its deed, and in this world, Kanzaki had no deed to speak of.

In the meantime, Othinus' decrease in power could be a consequence of a lack of a larger Nordic pagan cult. They had been looked at strangely when they asked about it. Their dimension, on the other hand, did boast a small but active and known pagan cult, which assured her a reliable power base.

But what was more worrying was the fact that Othinus had three things happened to her. First, for a moment she felt her powers come back, unrestrained, just like before. She had felt for a second like a true Magic God. A being able to erase, create and mould the world to her will. Then it came crashing down. In the blink of an eye, she felt nearly all her power vanish, leaving her weak as a normal human. Though, she recovered as soon as all those power changes came and went, in seconds she felt her power seep back, albeit much weaker than even after she was reduced to a fifteen centimetres shadow of herself.

The power continued to flow, in a very slow way. Maybe in hundreds of thousands of years, she could get back to her old status... Maybe. However, she did feel that she grew in physical size day by day, she sincerely hoped she would get back to her old form, maybe a certain boy would consider her with a more... critical eye.

Of all the magicians, Tsuchimikado was the one that got off the easiest, it seemed that his magic, Feng Shui and Onmyoudou worked without too much problem, as it relied on both the ley lines and a version of the Idol Theory which used normal objects and balance to work, as well as cosmology for the Onmyoudou. Though, he would as always wound himself in the process, as it was impossible for a human to both handles the power of an esper and a magician in one body.

To summarise, the magical potential of the group had been gravely diminished. The espers on their parts were still as powerful as when they left. At least, Tsuchimikado would still be able to heal himself after harming his own body after casting his spells.

Misaka Mikoto was pacing around the room, restless. She just wished for anything to happen, they had been stuck in this place for days without anything to do. They could exit their dorm but they were often blocked from certain places and they were always watched and followed by guards.

She threw a look around the room, Styil was on a chair, summoning flames, Kanzaki was cleaning her two-meter long nodachi for the umpteenth time, Tsuchimikado was sleeping or pretending to on a bed and her five sisters were throwing an electric ball at each other.

She was about to growl out her discontent when someone knocked on the door. Everybody dropped their activity and focused on the door.

"Come in." She said.

One of Lerouge's soldier, the ones dressed in all white coats and gas masks, stepped in. This one had a grey and white service ribbon pinned to his chest. A guard was behind him.

"Your presence is requested if you could please follow him." Announced the guard, before being silently sent away by the decorated soldier who gestured them to follow.

Everyone nodded, eager to finally do something other than waiting. After a few minutes of marching, they arrived at the conference room where they had already met Lerouge before. The soldier opened the door, saluting before letting them enter. Inside the man greeted them with a nod, his scarlet dragonfly on his shoulder, before gesturing toward the empty chairs. As the door closed the masked soldier, outside, leaned on it to watch for any unwanted ears.

"Hello, how are you?" Greeted Lerouge, a small smile finding its way on his face.

"Good. Why did you want to see us?" Answered Tsuchimikado, used to those kinds of meeting.

The man hummed for a moment, nodding in assent before passing them a folder with several files.

"We have a mission for you." He announced, leaning his head on his folded hands.

They looked through the folders which mostly contained photos of a United Nations peacekeepers, some vehicles and a military base. There was also a low-quality photo of a small black cube floating in the air, surrounded by a thick glass on a pedestal.

There were also blueprints of the base in question, the plans of the guards' patrol as well the position of cameras and watchtowers.

"You want us to take this, right?" Asked Styil, pointing at the cube.

"Indeed." Confirmed Lerouge. "How is entirely up to you, we'll just drive you there and back to base."

Suspicion and disbelief met the unusual declaration. A mission with such free parameters? Either they had a lot of faith in them or there was something darker behind that. The dark-haired man met their look with a serious-looking one.

"I'll be honest, this is a test. I want to see what you can do and how."

The dimension travellers looked at each other, before nodding, allowing the man to continue.

"You are to take this object and bring it back to us." He explained before drawing another object, it was like a hockey puck, twice as large with a button on top. "This is a discreet magical explosive charge which will allow you to break through the protection glass."

He tossed it to Kanzaki who caught it.

"You have free reign over the rules of engagement, kill, knock out or avoid, do as you wish, the only thing I require of you is this." He snapped his fingers and the door opened, letting pass one of the soldiers with a wheeled cloth rack as well as a trolley.

There were filled with clothes, looking like cassocks, similar to Styil's but without a priest's collar and many pockets. They were grey in colour with disruptive patterns. Instead of the usual sash was a utility belt with military characteristic. Above, white masks could be seen, they were oval shaped with a simple red Roman numeral. There were as many outfits as the group numbered, minus Othinus and Accelerator, but one of the masks had the number thirteen, exceeding their group's size by three.

The trolley for its part was medium sized, black in colour and was closed, hiding its content.

"Those will be your uniforms, they are made for camouflage, they can blend in your surrounding or turn any colour you want, you just need to will it. Same for the masks. Oh, and this is for you if you wish." He handed Othinus the same outfit but retailed to her size.

She first analysed it with a critical eye. It was in a way, humiliating for her even more so since she knew she was regaining her previous size, slowly but surely;

"We know your size is changing, this one is specially made to fit you at any time, well, it can go up to three metres." He explained.

She nodded in agreement, gliding with her mini Gungnir to the outfit before putting it on the legendary spear.

"And this is a small arsenal, take whatever you want." He pointed at the trolley before directing his hand to the outfits. "Wearing them is mandatory for this mission." He announced, getting up and heading out of the room. "I'll let you change, you have an hour before departure, you can prepare your approach."

"We didn't even agree." Said Misaka, eyes narrowed.

A quiet arrogant laugh was her answer, followed by a slamming door.

"Why that-!" Began the Railgun, sparks appearing around her.

"I don't really think we have a choice." Sighed Kanzaki, going to examine the outfits. "For now, we'll do what they say as quick as we can."

Misaka sighed in defeat but not before throwing a dark glare to the door. What an asshole. The group went to take their cassock and mask, each had a label with their name. The mask with the number one was for Misaka, two for Styil, three for Kanzaki, four for Tsuchimikado, five, six, seven, twelve and thirteen were for 10032, 10039, 10055, 13577 and 19090. For her part, Othinus had the number zero, in Arab numerals, on her mask.

The numbers eight, nine, ten and eleven had been skipped, maybe to give the illusion that their group was bigger. One of them had maybe been attributed to Accelerator too. They put on the cassocks, which could be worn on top of most of their clothes. And while Styil was disappointed to remove the cloth of his faith, he could still wrap his clerical collar around the camouflaged cassock's. The Imoutos also retained their goggles, which greatly helped them to manipulate electrical currents as well as in simpler firefights

As for the trolley, only the Imoutos and Tsuchimikado went to inspect it. It was stuffed with weapons, and most importantly, the blond spy's own pistol and the Imouto's weapons, the F2000R, which had been previously confiscated.

They took their weapons as well as the necessary ammunition. Most of it being non-lethal taser bullets. The trolley also contained a number of semi-auto pistols and machine pistol but no one was interested in them. Except for Tsuchimikado who decided to take one of the machine pistols, after all, his offensive powers needed much preparation and no one really had the time to throw origami around and pray when the bullets flew by. Neither did he want to bleed on the ground from all his pores.

"Now, what do we do?" Asked Styil, pointing to the blueprints and plans of the UN base.

They all settled around the table and studied the plans. The base was a moderate and modern complex made of a small square outer wall with watchtowers at each corner. Another one of the constructions towered inside the base, this one hosted a radar and a small battery of Surface to Air Missiles. The inner base sheltered a communication tower, four barracks, an armoury, a garage and the headquarters where the object was, all of this disposed of in a parallel fashion.

There were about forty regular and a handful of officers and other personnel. The blue helmets, or rather berets, were lightly armed, most only showing a pistol. Evidently, they were not prepared to fight a powerful force and were more here for deterrence.

The first plan, proposed by Othinus and Kanzaki, was to get through the main door and take out everyone, non-lethally if possible. But that was countered by the other members, especially the Imoutos and Tsuchimikado, for two reasons. Going all in could alert nearby, hidden forces, there always unknown parameters, which was reinforced by the fact that the region was a nest of JSDF military activities, the mountains and forest were a good place to train for counter-insurgency tactics, defensive and guerrilla warfare or to learn how to pilot vehicles in unequal terrain.

There was also the fact that it was a test to factor in, it would be much better if they showed that they were able to not only fight but also think and infiltrate And the less they showed their strength, the better. Instead, they would try to infiltrate the base by exploiting the breach in the surveillance, and there wasn't a lack of it due to the small number of personnel. They would then go in and retrieve the object, avoiding or neutralizing when needed to the guards. And finally, they would extract as best they could.

They had finished polishing their infiltration plan when three of Lerouge's soldiers came to get them. They followed the silent trio as they navigated through the corridors. Finally, they arrived at the hangars where two black cars were parked.

Lerouge was there and silently invited them to get in the cars. The cars were five places with the driver seat being already occupied by one of the white-clad soldiers. The four Imoutos decided to take the first car, while the rest occupied the second, with Othinus resting on Misaka's shoulder.

"Good luck." Said Lerouge before the doors closed.

The windows blackened, obscuring the view outside as the motors roared to life and the wheels spun to advance.

The travel was made in complete silence, the drivers not uttering a single word, only focusing on the road ahead, apparently able to see through the darkened windows, either thanks to special eyesight or a visual filter in their mask's lenses.

At one point, after many turns, tunnels and a good hour of driving the windows lost their dark colour, allowing them to see the exterior. They were now on a highway, outside the sun was about to set, many cars drove around, apparently people returning from work.

They continued like this for two hours more, stopping at one point to rest. The drivers stayed in the cars and made themselves discreet. Finally, they arrived near the UN base. The driver threw them a look and stepped out of the vehicle. Night had fallen and the moon was high in the starry sky.

They disembarked and realized that they were at the edge of a forest, they were given a map by one of the soldiers who pointed the base on the map and then the forest.

"I guess, it's time to go." Said Misaka, taking the first step toward the forest.

The rest followed her quickly, according to the map they just had to continue forward for a few hundred metres and they would find the base. They trekked through the calm forest, recently a typhoon had destroyed and torn down parts of it. As such, they didn't notice the sign.

Misaka 13577 was nearly at the head of the procession. She noticed that the trees were now rarer, they were approaching the end of the forest. As she walked, she felt her foot land on something solid. Not a rock. It made a click sound. She stopped. Her imperturbable gaze settling below her.

"What's wrong?" Asked Misaka, the original behind her.

"Onee-sama, Misaka thinks that Misaka walked on a landmine. Explains Misaka as a strange feeling takes over her body." Droned the clone.

"DON'T MOVE!" Shouted Misaka, attracting everyone's attention. "She walked on a landmine." She explained, prompting everyone to stop.

"Onee-sama, what does Misaka do? Ask Misaka, turning toward her big sister for comfort."

"D-don't move... I-I'll see if I can help you, alright." Stuttered Misaka as she went near 13577.

She bent, and indeed she noticed that 13577 was placed just above a small circular bump. She brushed aside the dirt to reveal the metallic contraption, confirming that it was a mine. She breathed in and looked around.

No one was really willing to do something. Nobody had any knowledge of landmines, even the other Imoutos who knew how to plant them didn't know the inner working, not even Tsuchimikado, the usual weapon specialist.

She exhaled. She had courses on mechanical engineering, technically the components of a mine could be compared to a weight meter... right? And with this thought in mind, she began to use her electricity to explore the different parts of the mine. Carefully, she first began with the wires, which lead her to the different components of the device.

She could guess their role, without certainty based on their form and the connections they had. Now was the time to neutralize the mine. She closed her eyes, feeling the engineering. Neutralizing the pressure detector would make the device blow up as the explosives were set to detonate when the pressure left. She continued down the wires and found two other parts. One was what contained the explosives and the other the trigger. But which was which, she could not know.

She had to neutralize the trigger because sending current to the explosive or in the wires directly connected to it could make it explode. After a moment of reflexion and profound analysis, she finally settled.

She sent her electricity through the mine, directing it toward what she supposed was the trigger. Nothing happened.

"Onee-sama, please, step back. Ask Misaka as she does not want the original to be hurt should there be an explosion."

"There isn't going to be an explosion alright?" Reassured the Railgun, but despite this, she took a few steps back.

After a second of hesitation, 13577 took her foot of the device. Nothing happened. Misaka let out a relieved sigh. She then turned furious eyes toward what she presumed was a minefield and raised her arms, dozens of similar devices came out of the ground, pulled by supernatural electromagnetism before being gently tossed to the side, clearing the path.

"Let's get this over with." She seethed. "And after, I'll talk with Lerouge."

She was furious. There had been no indications of an existing minefield whatsoever. The carelessness of the intelligence gathering had nearly killed one of her little sisters. She would take care of this mission and afterwards they'd have a _talk._ Oh yes, they will _talk._

They continued marching and after a few seconds, finally found themselves at the edge of the forest and just below the walls. The watchtowers were each manned by one guard, and they didn't seem to be very sharp, most thinking nothing could happen.

They scaled the wall, assisting each other with the help of their abilities before landing in the base proper.

Three Imoutos, 13577, 19090 and 10055 stayed behind to guard the escape route, as well as to make the group more discreet. The group sent to retrieve the object continued, dodging the few blue berets who patrolled.

They were about to dash to the headquarters when a lone soldier was met face with face with them. He hadn't been marked at all on the guard's patrol route. They didn't have the time to react before he shouted 'Alert!' on his radio.

A weak spear of electricity sent him dreaming but the deed was done. The alarm rang. Confused shouts were heard, and a voice came on the PA system.

" _Alert, intruders in the main yard!"_

Dozens of soldiers converged toward them, of course, they could handle them but they had just busted their main plan. Time for plan B they thought. Take the object forcefully and get out. Just as the first peacekeepers arrived, asking them to surrender, they sprang into action.

Electricity, taser bullets, fire, a nodachi and spells went flying. The force surrounding them were swept nearly instantly, men and women fell on the ground, unconscious. The remaining blue berets finally began to fire, as the protocols and their will to live dictated. They didn't hold for long.

"Kami-sama, what the fuck are those guys?" Asked the base commander, who had just been pulled from bed.

He never thought he would see someone attack this place, after all, who attacked a UN base in Japan? Well, who put a UN base in Japan in the first place? Nevertheless, being attacked was one thing, being attacked by goddam magicians. He wouldn't believe it if he wasn't seeing it with his own eyes, magicians... And not the kind that pulled rabbits from hats.

Nervously, as he watched his men get their ass handed to them on a silver platter, biting his nails, he ordered the only thing he could. He hadn't been told much by the brass. Just to protect the compound and if it was under serious attack: do this. He didn't even know what would happen.

"Code Gamma-Omega." He whispered in his radio.

" _Understood."_

The lasts of the blue berets had flown the battlefield or hadn't even engaged the magicians. None of them understood what was going on. They just saw the thunder, the flames and the terrible figures of supernatural beings.

As the yard finally fell silent the group began to head toward the headquarters ready to take their prize.

"Haha! Where are you going, criminals?"

They turned as the voice called them, only to see a man in an all-white skin-tight suit. His head was covered by a full white helmet with a black visor. The suit had small grey hexagonal patterns all over it.

Kanzaki simply tsked and sent one of her wire toward the suited man. He jumped high in the air, higher than any human could and fell on the ground in a superhero pose, fist on the ground.

"Hey, that was pretty cool, eh?" He asked, eager for an answer.

"Who are you?" Asked Misaka, sparks dancing around her.

"Oh, oh, an electrical magician! This will be interesting." He said, excitement in his voice. "As for your question, I can only say I'm here to stop you, criminals! You are under arrest for unjustified aggression against representatives of the United Nations, property damage and trespassing while unauthorized. Your surrender will help you in court." He announced, bearing his fists.

His only response was a torrent of flames, bullets, electricity and wires.

"What a clown." Huffed Othinus, speaking for the first time since hours.

"Hmm, he reminds me of someone..." Trailed off Misaka.

The dust summoned by the barrage finally settled to reveal... nothing.

"Pheww, I could have a scratch there." Said a voice behind them.

They turned to face the white-suited man, who had snuck just behind them. He gave them a wave.

"How the..." Began Kanzaki, the closest to him.

"Haha, that's just my GUTS!" He shouted before punching the Saint in the face.

She went flying and crashed against one of the barracks, leaving cracks but still alive. She went back on her feet, a grimace on her face.

"Hmm, you're pretty solid. Nice." A smile could be heard in his voice. "This is going to be interesting. It's been long since I had fun." He crossed his arms. "May the best win."

**A CERTAIN SCP**


	20. Calm After and Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also have some things to tell about this chapter.
> 
> It will touch politics. Now, now it's alternate universe politics, and while I did draw inspiration from real life politics I won't soapbox or try to promote an ideology or party over any other. I have my convictions, but I do not wish to make this story one of ideological and political engagement. Most of the character's positions, at least those who have any, comes from the organization they belong to, which engagements are pretty much already stated in the SCP verse, I'm trying to keep the organizations In Character.
> 
> There's also some symbolism which I will explain later.

"May the best of us win."

Misaka 10032 fired first, her bullets tore through the night but were avoided. The white-clad man jumped in the air and zeroed toward her. Using her strings Kanzaki pulled her out of harm's way. The suited stranger rolled on his back as he landed, dodging Styil's flames.

"Fire, electricity, cutting wires and even old-fashioned bullets, you really are an interesting bunch." He observed them, his eye noting the Roman numerals on their masks. "But there seems to be more of you, I wonder where they are. Bah, whatever, they cannot hide from jus-"

Profiting from his monologue Othinus had channelled her own spells and soon a dozen of black bolts barrelled toward the attacker who once again avoided them. However, they continued to pursue him, following him like heat-seeking missiles.

He grunted as he weaved and ducked to avoid bullets, Kanzaki's sword, and Styil's flame. However, he took one of Misaka's thunderbolt right in the plexus, sending him to the ground. The arrows closed on their target, they exploded upon contact, sending him flying backwards.

He hit the ground a few times and continued to painfully glide and crash for a few metres before stopping, resting on his leg. He chuckled and cracked his neck.

"Okay, not bad. Too bad for you that my suit is designed to resist magic. My show now."

And as the projectiles and other spells closed on him, he grinned. The cloud of dust and smoke obscured everyone's vision.

"Damn, you guys really can't aim."

This time before everyone could turn, he struck. Styil was kicked in the air while Misaka and the clones were violently hit and punched around, falling on the ground like puppets.

"... Urgh, you guys are pretty fragile." He taunted before jumping back as the wires sliced the air where he was before. "But... you, you are interesting, and you too." He said, looking at Othinus and Kanzaki.

The Saint and the Goddess frowned, before attacking. The headhunting bolts flew toward the boy, but this time he punched them. Othinus observed with disbelief the suit punching the bolts to destruction with his fists. He still took a few damages and was brought to his knees by the power of the detonations.

Nanasen and Shichiten Shichitou only reaped air as the white-suited man dodged and rolled out of harm's way. Kanzaki's frown only deepened. She would have ended this fight by now with her usual capacities, but right now it was really close. She could even lose. No, she couldn't lose. She was a Saint, and she wouldn't be beaten by a mere human in a scientific suit.

She doubled her attacks, her sword becoming a blur as it twisted, cut and slashed. But still, nothing.

Finally, with the help of her wires, she managed to corner him and went for an overhead strike.

"AAAAAH!" The white-clad man clasped his hand around her blade, holding her in place.

They both groaned, trying to take the advantage, each pressing with all their strength. After a few seconds, he had to break as the other members of the group who had recovered renewed their attack.

"I'll admit, this is a bit harder than I thought. Tell me, what is the name of my worthy opponents?" He asked.

All stayed mute.

"Very well, I suppose I should go first, you can call me Asahi."

They still stayed mute. He sighed.

"And me who thought I'd have a challenge." He got back in position, right leg behind and fists raised.

"O beast Guardians of winter from the East, West and most of all North, heed my call and help me against my enemy in thy domain. May your divine winds tear to shreds any standing in your way. (Oi! You guys and Genbu you old fucks kill that guy!)" Came Tsuchimikado's voice.

Using the confusion of the battle he created a magic circle and placed his origamis representing the Four Symbols, known in Japanese as Suzaku of South, Seiryuu of the East, Byakuu of the West and finally Genbu of the North.

He had been careful in his preparations, placing each to face their respective cardinal direction and had mostly called Genbu because he was the Guardian of Winter. And well... it was February. Four powerful winds came from each direction, most particularly the north before forming high in the air the form of a snake.

The wind creature drew back its head, maw widening, before plunging toward Asahi, who was taken inside the beast's mouth, twisting and turning inside the maelstrom of currents as he flew high in the air still before being thrown out of the body, crashing like a meteor on the hard ground. At the same time, a bleeding Tsuchimikado fell on the ground, blood pouring from him.

"Get Tsuchimikado out of here!" Ordered Misaka to one of her Imoutos.

Soon, the wounded spy was dragged out of the fight and bandaged to recover. But, Asahi hadn't said his last word, he got up, cracking his neck, before doing the same with his fingers.

"Let's get this over with."

He had to admit he was beginning to lose some ground to them, he hadn't expected their group to be so diverse, but in the end, he would triumph, justice always triumphed. Leaning on his legs he launched himself like a bullet toward Styil, traversing his flames without any effect before grabbing his head and slamming it in the ground hard enough to knock him out.

With a high jump in the air he landed near Misaka 10032 and 10039, he clapped his hand extremely fast, creating a powerful shockwave which deafened them for a moment and disoriented them. They were both slapped to the ground, out cold.

He would later realize this action was a mistake. He was forced to retreat when a whip of iron sand took swings at him. And soon the attacker had to dodge more and more of the electromagnetic constructs. The whip sword soon transformed into a dome around his body, which he narrowly escaped as it was about close on him.

Misaka Mikoto roared in fury, that he mocked them was one thing, that he gave them a hard time was another. But that he hurt her Little Sisters? He was going to pay.

From the dome of Iron Sand rose a puppet, twice as tall as a man with long whip-like claws and glowering with electricity.

"A golem?" Asked Asahi as the claws closed on him.

He answered with his own fist, which severed the puppet's arm from its body, but soon the appendage grew back and renewed their attack. He punched through the creature multiple times, sending parts flying, but to his disappointment, they always reappeared.

"Well, if I can't kill the puppet, I'll get the puppeteer." He announced, diving toward Misaka.

But this one, thanks to his words had already prepared herself and he was met by a storm of various metallic projectiles, plates, guns, bullets, keys and others. The closer he came the more objects he received, his speed multiplying the impacts of the projectiles. He soon had to abandon his project and retreated.

Punching a few of Othinus' arrows he focused back on Misaka, who was enveloped by a thick coat of thunder. She roared and pressed the attack, hundreds of thunderbolts leaving her body. They managed to land on Asahi who barely reacted to them.

"Ha, you'd need at least more than twenty million amperes to get through this suit's resistance. No magicians can send that much current." He laughed cockily. "Especially with my suit's own resistance to magic."

Swift as the wind Kanzaki was behind him, her wires placed around him, on every side, as she arced her sword toward him. He jumped in the air, but not high enough to get stuck in the wires when he disappeared. The Supreme Pontiff stopped her nodachi mid swing upon seeing her target disappearing. She didn't have time to think when something crashed on her, stunning her. She landed on the ground in a mess of limbs.

"Alright! Normally I don't use that, but you're being difficult, now surrender, I'll put a good word for you before the court."

However, Misaka wasn't fooled, she knew precisely where her enemy was. Thanks to the particles of iron sand deposited on him by her puppet, she could locate Asahi using her electromagnetism. And he was at the same place he was before, thanks to an unknown reason, which after a

microsecond of reflexion was probably his suit, he had managed to become invisible.

"All of you, clear out." She coldly said.

She had used the precious seconds that Kanzaki brought her to prepare her finishing blow. She had managed to estimate to the last micro-ohm the resistance of the suit when she launched her latest attack. Now, using this she calculated how many amperes were needed to both neutralise the suit's resistance and knock him into unconsciousness. The calculus was very important, the slightest mistake could kill him.

She saw Kanzaki collecting the wounded and evacuating the immediate area. She felt Asahi stay in his place, apparently curious and foolish enough to test her power he severely underestimated.

And with her calculation in hand, she brought down the power of Academy City, a power even the famed Gakuen Toshi had rarely seen. From the heavens came the judgement of a pissed off esper. Millions of volts and amperes struck Asahi. The man screamed in pain as he felt his nerves attacked by the current, bypassing his, he thought, invincible suit. Barely a second later the skies cleared as the thunder stopped.

The once pristine figure, its suit blackened and fuming, stood his ground, before slowly falling. He didn't get back up. For a moment none spoke. Before finally, Misaka sighed and sat on the ground in relief. She could still feel the natural electrical current coursing through the man, meaning he was still alive.

She looked at the remaining members of the attack group. They hadn't been expecting such resistance. Oh, she was going to have a talk with Lerouge. Wordlessly, they finished their business, taking their objective, the black cube which they simply placed in a bag before getting back to the cars, taking their wounded, except Styil as he had regained consciousness.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Three Portlands. Three places, one city. This city was unlike any other in the world. Indeed, Three Portlands was a city located in its own pocket dimension which could be accessed by portals in the cities of Portland in the Maine, Portland in Oregon and Portland in the UK, hence its name.

The city was rather small, boasting eighty thousand inhabitants, most of them being anomalies. Indeed, Three Portlands was a perfect city for the bizarre of the world. While humans and para-humans, humans with anomalous characteristics, such as cyborgs, thaumaturges, psychic, etc... made up about eighty percent of the population the remaining twenty were divided into Sidhe which were human-sized fairies, ghosts, intelligent animals and others.

The City was protected by the United States and the United States Paranormal Conclave under a contract dating back to the Great Depression. While military defences had been left to the US, Three Portlands did maintain an effective police force completed with civil auxiliaries. However, most major investigations were left to the Unusual Incidents Unit, a fact decreed by J. Edgar Hoover, creator of the FBI and the UIU.

It was, to be honest, the only place where the UIU could shine and garnered among the population a very favourable reputation as strong and fair protectors. Here they were not mocked as the little black duck of the anomalous world or of the FBI's.

But POTUS Jeremiah D. Colt hadn't come here to admire the City's uniqueness, though he was feeling it. He was having trouble to wrap his mind around the city, which ground was always sloped and which own horizon was inverted, making nearly any point of the City viewable from nearly any any spot in the city.

"Mr President?" He was shaken out of his thought by his bodyguard. "This way please."

He walked into the Three Portland's UIU headquarters, a tall beige skyscraper with many windows, a row of parade officers at attention surrounding him, he followed the UIU's envoy, his bodyguards and nuclear football bearer following. Inside, was a great atrium full of UIU personnel. It was similar to the original Edgar J. Hoover building if a tad smaller and more colourful with green and blue. Those near him stopped all their activities to salute him, he answered with vague nods, looking around. His interest was caught every time he saw a non-human or para-humans, his gaze settling on their bodies, examining their differences.

He did not notice their discomfort or rather didn't care about it. Finally, his eyes locked with the UIU's director's. Jane Hoover. He had observed her career, a discreet scion of the Hoover family she had climbed through the rank of the FBI and had been the leader of one of the most, if not the most, successful raid against human trafficking rings.

She had been chosen to replace the former ageing, and senile, director of the Unit due to her pristine and impressive record, both to boost the UIU's efficiency and reputation. Putting a renowned agent as its head would surely lift the department's prestige. The results in efficiency were more than satisfying but those for the reputation were still below expectation. But, well, that should have been expected, it's hard not to laugh at an official agency taking care of the paranormal and which doesn't make any of its record available to public eyes.

Anyway, as he shook her hands, he looked in her eyes. She had that fire, that cold patient fire in her eyes. Some said she was just like her grandfather, the famous or infamous founder of the Federal Bureau. He had a hard time disproving these thoughts. At least he could still hold her in leash, unlike her predecessor. Oh yeah, holding her in leash... maybe she... He dispelled his thoughts, as he realized the strange look she gave him.

"Mr President are you alright?" She queried, a certain edge in her voice.

"Hmm, of course, excuse me I was just thinking..." He apologised. "I'm very pleased to finally visit the famed Three Portlands, and I have to say that it exceeds my expectations. Where is the mayor by the way?" He looked around.

"Unfortunately, the mayor is held up by an unexpected difficulty and will be absent for the entire day." She explained.

"Ah, such a shame. But we cannot dwell on that, lead the way, Director."

"Of course, Mr President." She answered with a smile.

She began touring the building with the President. Had she been honest she would have admitted that the mayor had preferred to hide in her office. The mayor was a very popular but also extremely shy Sidhe, a creature of near perfect beauty, Three Portland's politics were extremely lax. After all the City Hall had very few influences on the economy or the legislation, which had been drafted centuries ago and was changed a few times to accommodate certain residents without much protests. The Mayor had been elected for the third time, after continuing a successful politic of further decentralisation concerning the City Planning Committee, allowing more power to the average citizen as well as one of betterment of public services.

The economy was always calm, the lack of globalization and certain protectionists laws stopped both economic booms and depressions. Real power could be found in the City Planning Committee, which decided how the future city block would be built, the Mayor was a part of among a dozen of equal elected officials on its board. Though their executive power had a bit dwindled under the fay's mandate. Finally, justice rested of course in the hands of the UIU which could sway or take any investigations made by the Three Portlands' Police Department as well as having an unconstitutional amount of power among the courts. Or rather, she could do all of this, she was the backroom influencer of the metropolis.

To come back to the President, he had been involved in many scandals concerning... women. The beauty of the Mayor, which overhauled its charisma made many head turn. But according to the rumour she had experienced the President's uncomfortable look. And by the way, he looked at some of the female parahumans or anomalies it was no rumour.

And if she was honest a second time, she would have to admit she didn't care. What mattered was that he had power. The POTUS, more than most of its predecessor was a man of many scandals but with a partisan PR strong enough to make any cult of personality blush and lobbying skills as well as a charisma which could sway the two houses to fit his agenda. If she had to endure some leering she would do so, it was the price to pay to live up to her name's fame.

In a way, she felt pathetic doing that, but in the end, the result prevailed.

After showing the President around they could finally get down to real business. She sent away most of the escort, only taking two of her most trusted bodyguards, the President, his escort and his nuclear football bearer.

"If you would." She invited him to enter a large elevator.

When the entire procession had entered the lift, it began to descend to depths of Three Portlands. The doors opened to reveal a dark long corridor, guarded by a dozen sentinels and barred by three thick doors marked with runes.

She presented her card and let her eyes be scanned, granting the group access to the underbelly of the headquarters. The long hallways were dimly lit, she had ordered this on purpose to intimidate the President, and apparently, it worked as Colt's composure seemed a lot less sure, if any tough negotiations were to happen, she would gain an advantage;

"Ah, so, this is where you keep them?" He asked, drinking in the sight of the underground.

This was indeed where the UIU kept most of their important and dangerous prisoners.

"It is, sir." She nodded.

"And what about your latest catch in Chicago? Have you managed to get information I am not aware of yet?"

She recalled the two prisoners she had captured from the skirmish in the Windy City before speaking.

"Nothing important, sir, only that the mobster is one of the capos of the elusive Chicago Specter as you already know. And about the other, the electric magician, she-"

"She? I thought this magician was a young man."

She coughed, embarrassed.

"We were apparently too quick to judge, she is a young teenager, much too young to be hanging around the mob." She frowned. "Japanese-American and a runaway apparently."

"A runaway?" He questioned. "Shouldn't we give her custody back to her parents?"

"Unfortunately, they have recently died in a car accident, as such, we're keeping her there. We're trying to convince her to help us but she's tight."

"I guess she is!" He looked at one of his bodyguard who forced a smile.

She took an internal deep breath and ignored the remark.

"We're focusing our efforts on the capo, Mike Brown, we're on the verge of breaking him, despite the anomalous effects tying his tongue, quite literally."

She had honestly never suspected that this muscle was physically capable of this feat.

"I see, what kind of methods do you use?"

"Sometimes, we can go further than let's say... Guantanamo. US laws do not apply here, and Portlanders never really thought about... law enforcement limits, concerning the extortion of informations. However, we stayed soft with the kid."

"I see." He observed thoughtfully. "Say, Director."

"Yes?"

"Have you ever wanted to head your own organization, rather than a department?" He questioned her, just looking at her sideways.

She kept walking, carefully choosing her words.

"I have to admit that I always thought that I could serve the homeland better with more freedom." She answered, also observing the man in the same fashion.

The corridors had fallen silent as the President jerked to a halt.

"Freedom, uhm? What a word." He chuckled.

Her raised eyebrows didn't deter him to continue laughing.

"I see, as for everything more freedom will solve your problem." He looked her straight in the eyes. "You know, dear Mr Cohen is rather old, and has also a scandal before him. He opposes fragmenting the FBI to create an independent agency to deal with the Unusual."

Ah yes, the Camera affairs. It had been a widespread rumour, which had ended with nothing concrete but growing distrust toward both the NSA and the FBI. She couldn't really blame the people though, especially since she knew the truth. Unfortunately, she had no concrete rock solid evidence or even the political firepower to disseminate it.

She was however surprised by the fact that he opposed this. Or rather surprised that the President had already talked to him about doing such a thing, she had no idea. But it didn't surprise her, Cohen wanted to keep his control on internal security as tight as he could. He was one of the few who saw the Unusual and Three Portlands as important aspects of American hard and soft power. The fact that he was a fervent partisan of the previous President, which had placed him there, and was from the rival political party might also play in his refusal. But the President had expressed a unique interest toward the Unusual, and just like Cohen had seen its importance. It was anticipated of him to try and keep this entire department for himself.

"If another scandal or mistake was to tarnish his career it would be very, very hard for him not to retire and leave his post. If a more like-minded individual was to take up the mantle of Director, you could very well gain the freedom you desire and need." He finished.

She hummed in agreement before a smile split her face.

"I suppose that would be a more than satisfying scenario."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

_He paced around the room, left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. Was it the right choice? Should he do it? Could he do it? He looked at the envelope. The broken Foundation sigil attracted his eyes, allured him, like the snake of Eden. The real question was, was he working with devils? Were they the angels? Or were both of them devils? And which, was the lesser evil?_

Slowly his eyes opened. He was on his desk, he felt drool under his mask which he cleaned, he looked at the hours and yelped one pm! He had slept on his desk until one pm!

Orion jumped, gathering his agenda. To his relief, he had nothing of importance for the morning. He just had a call with Monika later, he winced, she wouldn't be happy. Ah, at least he got that leak in his ranks. He had a... relieving time with the little shit. Nothing better than a punching ball to let out pent up frustration and anger. Unfortunately, the man would die, a rather... unfortunate death later, just before he could deliver his latest rapport to the Alpha Group.

Anyway, he took his sweet time to breakfast, watching mindlessly a documentary about lions. He was pretty sure his rival and enemies would laugh and facepalm if they ever found out he was smiling upon seeing baby lions playing with each other. Aww, that one was really cute!

But his relaxation came to an end when he noticed he only had about ten minutes before the call. He checked his appearance, even though it wasn't even a video-call, he still had to be exemplary. He ran his hand upon his black tunic, barely feeling the coarse tissue, put his mask in place and checked that everything was in order before taking his secured phone. He typed the number, called and waited for barely a second when Monika picked up the phone.

"This is Rosenberg, listening." She announced her undercover name.

"When Chaos come what changes?" He asked.

"The Illogic becomes the only logic." She spoke the rest of the confirmation code.

"How are you?" He asked, sincerely.

"I am well, sir. I've been investigating while keeping a low profile as to not alert the other agencies. However, I did not make a lot of progress."

He inspired deeply. He really had to teach her to talk about her, how she felt. Otherwise... she could very well turn into him. But he knew that wasn't the time, not right now.

"I see. Well, I still have to congratulate you, you have established a very efficient network in a few days, and on your own. I am... I am..." He swallowed, that was hard to say. He wasn't the one that should be saying dammit. But he had to. After all, he only had to blame himself. "I am proud of you." He admitted.

He gulped, panic gripping his normally withered heart as only silence haunted the conversation.

"Thank you, Orion." She finally answered.

He felt his old heart bloom with relief, he couldn't resist the smile that wormed up its way up his face. But, still, the claws of the past still frayed the back of his mind. Would his old friends be proud? Probably not. But there was no going back now.

Now for the negative part.

"Also, I have to talk you about your reinforcement." He began. "They've been granted as you asked."

"Great! So, team Cinereous is coming?" She asked, content to get competent and friendly help.

"Yes, but." He paused, she suddenly felt her stomach knot, she had a very bad feeling. "I also dispatched the Lieutenant to help you."

He didn't have time to get anxious as the answer came like a bullet.

"WHAT TH- Pardon, sir?" She stressed the last word.

"As I said, I dispatched the Lieutenant to help you."

"I see, very well." The words were spoken coldly.

He frowned, he was borderline disrespected, he could support her first reaction but this was teetering on insubordination.

"I do not like your tone, is there a problem, agent?"

"The Lieutenant and I are not made for teamwork, sir." She explained, her cold tone still there but subdued. "My apologies, sir."

"Well, I'm sure you'll learn. They are already en route and will soon arrive. Good day."

"Farewell, sir." She replied.

He hung up, before sighing and taking his head in his hands. Those twos would come around, eventually. He had placed them together in the hopes of accomplishing this. And she would forgive him, she had to. While he had his doubt about the Lieutenant's loyalty, he had given express order that if anything, anything happened to her, he would be taken responsible. Now, he was beginning to regret the lack of a punching bag. If he only he could get his hand on a spy.

Monika was livid. The Lieutenant was coming here? She felt irritated just by the mention of his name. She really didn't know what was up with him except for one thing. He wanted to replace her. She had warned Orion about this but he had brushed aside her complaints. She would have to watch her back very closely.

But maybe... Orion wanted to replace her. He was pitting them together to see who was best. After all this world had no place for the weak. She felt tears well up in her eyes. How could he? How could he betray her like that? No, she was delusional. This wasn't a betrayal. This was just how it was. Orion had never been her ally. She may have come to see her as a surrogate father. But she was just a pawn for him. Just a pawn. A pawn to be discarded when no longer useful.

She felt alone as she brought her knees under her chin. She hated to admit but it hurt. It hurt to realize Orion's true thoughts. She had always seen herself next to him, forever and ever. They would always face whatever the world threw at them, shoulder by shoulder. And when he would die, she would be there to honour his memory and continue his work. She always imagined being his heir. But now, what was she?

No, no. She thought. I will not let fear grip my heart. She would face what the world threw at her, even without a shoulder next to her. She would come out on top and she would win! She would show Orion her strength! She wiped her tears, she was alone and she could rely on no one, but she would triumph.

Or maybe... maybe she wasn't that alone. If she could bring a certain SCP to her side, he would probably help her. If she could both show her worth and that she was the only link he had to the Insurgency, she could very well be... She paused. What was she thinking? Had she really considered the poor SCP as just a pawn to be used? No, no! She was turning into what she hated about Orion. No, she wouldn't become like him. She could be better than him.

What if instead of a pawn she could have a friend, an ally? A true shoulder to stand side by side. Yes, that could work, they would help each other! Yes, that could totally work, both parties would be victorious. And maybe they could become more than friends, and not good friends, she thought with a slight blush. Aaaah! Why I am thinking like this, calm down! She berated herself to allow such... immature fantasies. But, as she looked by the window, which only had for view the building in front, she knew one thing.

She knew, she just knew that soon, they'll see each other. And when they would she would try to convince him. But she had no time to let her mind wander off, she had to get ready for the arrival of the reinforcements.

Her prediction came true when a quarter of an hour later someone knocked on her door. Slipping a silenced pistol behind her back she neared the door and called.

"Tainted men, what reap ye?" She initiated the password.

"Freedom."

Still holding her gun behind her back, she slowly undid the lock before opening the door. To her relief, she was indeed confronted by squad Cinereous. Boomer, the jovial explosive specialist, Templar the determined heavy weapon specialist, Vulcan, the unstable firebomb and flamethrower specialist, Sicarius, the silent sniper and finally the serious leader, Sarge. They all carried luggage of various size.

"Hi, chief." Greeted Boomer with a wave of a bandaged hand, he must have been the one to knock as he was the closest to the door.

"Sup, come in." She invited them.

The team entered, greeting her in various and finally came the Lieutenant, still wearing his mask, unlike the uncovered Cinereous, he barely acknowledged her with a nod. She couldn't say that she was better than him on this point, her only answer was a scoff and a shake of her head.

The reinforcements dispersed themselves around the room, letting her sit on her bed, in the centre of the room.

"I presume I'll have to brief you about the status of the operation?"

The Insurgency sergeant nodded, allowing her to explain.

"We have the confirmed presence of Global Occult Coalition special agents, of Serpent Hand's agents, we suspect there is a chapter in the city, and of course the Foundation. However, they do not seem to have such a developed agent network but rather moles in the LAPD and non-combat personnel living in the city. As of now, we have a network of about fifty informants in the cities ranging from homeless to one of the local kingpins and even LAPD agents."

"Gangsters? Do you think we can trust them?" Asked Vulcan, its hairless brow furrowing.

She shrugged.

"Not really, but I discovered that the local Serpent Hand chapter had great chance to be associated with a, uhm, how to call it, counter-gang gang, well, anyway they're people putting sticks in their wheels, so I managed to get their cooperation as well as some of their own informants. And now, our aim is to try gather information about Site-19, the best would be to interrogate high-level Foundation personnel in the city. But we must stay vigilant about our rivals. Oh, and also the UIU is there, but, eh, who cares."

The group, except for the Lieutenant shared a collective chuckle about the FBI's paranormal department;

"I wouldn't be that uncaring about the UIU, they a-"

"Ah, come on, we're talking about the UIU there, not something serious." Guffawed Templar with its broken jaw, wrapping his arm around the young Lieutenant.

The young man threw him an irritated look, hidden by the mask before removing his arm forcefully.

"I am serious, their new director is not to be underestimated, and they are still FBI, not a joke when in US soil."

"Urgh, don't be such a wuss, like they'll do anything, they just hide behind the Foundation." Groaned the sergeant, his lone eye locking with the Lieutenant's.

This one looked around the room, but no one supported his idea. He even caught Monika's amused eyes, and he soon realized that he would never change their viewpoint. He shrugged in defeat and fell silent, still shooting dark glares toward Monika or Agent Hex as he preferred to call her.

"I think this is all. Except if any of you have something interesting to add?"

No one answered.

"Very well, I think we're done, we'll begin tomorrow. Dismissed." She sketched a salute.

Soon in her room were only two people. Herself and the Lieutenant, who sat in a nearby chair.

"Do you want anything?" She asked, frowning, her hands nearing her pistol.

"No." He abruptly replied, taking a book from his backpack.

Her eyebrows raised as he began to flip through the pages, without a care in the world.

"If you are done, I suggest you go to your own room."

He looked at her, his questioning looks visible despite the mask.

"Hasn't Orion told you? This is our room."

Suddenly she understood why she had been given a room for two. She was barely able to fake a smile.

"I see. Excuse me."

Inside she cursed her traitorous mentor and superior from the depth of her heart. It goes without saying that she would sleep with one eye and a weapon below her pillow.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

He looked from the photo to the building. From the building to the photo. It did look like it, just a bit... decrepit. G.L looked for the last time at the photo which depicted a pristine building, which was rather normal if one didn't take into account the bas-relief of a long snake around the door. He looked at the actual building which lacked some windows and was covered base to roof by tags and graffiti.

He shrugged knocking on the door five times in a particular rhythm. The door opened on its own, letting see an empty entrance made of wood. A flight of stairs went up. Seeing no other way or people he took it.

The house was dusty, dark and smelled terrible. He tried to switch on the light but it was useless. He drew his gun from his bomber jacket and readied his magic. As he climbed the stairs, he suddenly realized he was climbing them down. He continued. Sometimes he could hear some noises, but he kept going, finally, after ten minutes of climbing up, down and sideways, he found himself just before a door. Before he could knock it opened, revealing an empty sunlit entrance, with beige walls and clean parquet.

He took his first steps, still not letting go of the grip on his weapon.

"Hey there!"

He turned to face the voice behind him, weapon drawn and ready. He found a gun pointed to the side of his head. He looked down at his hand, which was deep in a small floating galaxy coloured portal. He took a look at the gun, which stuck out from a similar wormhole.

"Wow dude, chill out."

It was the same voice, this time in front of him. It belonged to a woman whose face was covered by a hood, a black baseball cap, black glasses and a dark bandanna tied around her lower face, which hid most of her tanned skin. She was also dressed in a similar fashion, black shirt and jeans with a chain as well as a dark jacket which reached to her midriff with spikes on the shoulders and elbows. Long black hair with purple tip escaped from her hood.

"Put down the gun, we're all brothers and sisters here." She spoke, trying to ease the tension.

Slowly he pulled out the gun and put it back in his jacket.

"Great, I'm K.B, you're G.L, right?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"Nice, come in." She invited him.

She walked in the entrance and he followed looking around, she opened a door revealing a large room which was well lit, it was stuffed to the brim with different items of furniture and objects. Some were anomalous like some purple hovering stones but most were common, tables, chairs, a TV, a small kitchen, some bookshelves and a black and red flag. A ladder and a steel pole led to a large mezzanine where he supposed were some bedrooms.

"Welcome to the LA Serpent Hand Chapter's headquarter." She announced. "Come, I'm gonna show you around."

He continued to silently follow her as she presented her the different parts of the hideout.

"This is our living space, we do all kind of things here. We eat, drink, party, nap, discuss, organize well, we do things. Up there are the bedrooms, and... Cutter where are you?"

From a pile of blankets and pillow came a man, wrapped in said materials. He yawned before answering.

"Right here girl w-" He stopped when he noticed G.L "Oh, hi, is he the new guy?"

She nodded.

"G.L, Cutter. Cutter G.L" She presented pointing back and forth.

He gave a nod to G.L before falling on the ground to go back to sleep. G.L gave a look to K.B who just shrugged. They then went to the upper level, taking the ladder. The mezzanine was large, with many separations made of tissue.

They went to the first 'bedroom' and pulled on a chain. Seconds later sections of the tissue opened to reveal the room. It was covered with various flags, often coloured with red and accompanied with a red star or a sickle and hammer. The inhabitant himself was a skinny young man, with an ushanka atop his head, who was currently on his laptop. Various book littered the room and the ushanka wearing man nearly tripped on one when trying to get up to greet them.

"Hi, I'm Sten." He raised his fist waiting for a bump back.

"G.L" He replied, answering in due form.

"We call him Tankie." Informed K.B with a laugh.

"I am not a tankie!" Protested Sten with vehemence. "Urgh, whatever."

"Sure, sure." She chuckled before exiting the room with G.L.

She guided him to the next 'room', pulled the chain and entered.

This room was quite similar to the previous one, except this one was littered with black flags often completed with stylized circle A instead of red ones. The inhabitant this time was a young black woman with a Guy Fawkes mask. She got up to greet him.

"Sup, the name's Goldman and you?" She high-fived him.

"G.L" He replied soberly.

"You can call her Trots."

"Please don't." Eyes rolling behind the mask.

With chuckles followed by protest, K.B led him to another room, where she repeated the usual process. This time the room was rather bare, with only a few pieces of furniture, organized in neat piles. The person inside was a young pale woman with glasses, who was deeply focused on her computer.

"Hello, I'm G.L" The young man introduced himself.

She barely looked at them and mumbled something unintelligibly fast before definitely ignoring them. It was apparent that she was bothered and they did not stay long.

"Excuse her, she just has some... difficulties with people." Said K.B, as she closed the 'door'.

"I understand, what's her name?" Asked G.L.

"It's Temple. You won't see her a lot. Now to introduce our last present member. Yeah, a lot of us aren't here often, either at work or college, we're about twenty, an-... oh there you are."

They had walked toward another room but she cut her explanation as she spotted the individual in question. Twitching cat ears, a swinging cat tail and a generous figure with long blonde hair which fell on the shoulders like a veil of liquid gold. And a beard. The anthropomorphic cat was a tall muscled man in his early thirties. He gave his hand to shake, which G.L did.

"Hi, I'm Felin, not Felix, by the way." He said looking intently at K.B who threw her hand in mock surrender. "Anyway, don't make cat jokes about me, pull my tail or touch my ears and we'll be okay, alright?" As he spoke his hold tightened over G.L.

He only replied in kind, both of their knuckles turning white.

"Understood."

Finally, after some seconds of locked hands, K.B spoke.

"Okay, if you're done trying to show who's the alpha here, I have a visit to guide." She announced.

Finally, they broke contact but not before throwing a smile at each other. Before he turned to K.B.

"Oh, and Pablo is here to see you. Don't worry, I brought him here the usual way, he still doesn't know."

That apparently soured her mood, she sighed and her shoulder sagged.

"Come with me, I guess I can introduce both of you."

She felt his questioning look and decided to answer.

"As you probably know we have a lot of contacts in the city, homeless, college students, trade unions and different persons really. But we also have some criminals, Pablo is one of them, he is from an upcoming gang, not my kind of person. And... I know him, personally." She explained.

He hummed and nodded, as she slid down the pole, landing on the lower floor, he did the same. In the room was a young man dressed in a leather jacket, with gold chains, smoked ray-bans and slicked back hair.

"Yo Anders! How are you _mi hermanito_!?"

G.L looked around to find the person who Pablo was talking to.

"Do I have to spell it out for you every time we meet? And don't call me by my name here, even my dead one, alright?" Said K.B, irked, and staying a good distance away from the man.

"Alright, alright, _hermanita_." Said the man in a mocking tone. "So, you got a new face in this little place of yours."

"Yeah, G.L, Pablo. Pablo, G.L."

He approached to shake hands, which G.L politely accepted. The grip didn't last long and it was a painful hand that Pablo drew back. For one reason or another G.L had felt compelled to just be a little bit of a jerk himself. Hmm, what could that be? He asked himself rhetorically as he glanced at K.B, who threw him a knowing look.

"Well anyway, I have to talk to you, in private." Hissed Pablo.

The young woman nodded before talking to G.L.

"Well, make yourself at home, take whatever free room or place there is." She waved around the room. "I'll be back soon anyway."

He nodded as the two walked away. He checked his phone as he received a message, it was from the twins.

_'Dude we r in a long ass fck weird stair, u sure this the right place?'_

He groaned, heading toward the exit and texted them to just keep moving forward.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

The streets of Los Angeles crawled with people of all background. So much that the two suited men melted in the decorum, two simple pigments on a painting of a thousand colours. Just like the place Matthew and George were headed to.

It was a simple restaurant with a yellow ensign with red letterings which spelt 'Great Oceanic of California'. They entered the tranquil place and were greeted by one of the waiters.

"Would you care for a table, sirs?"

"Yes, table ninety-nine for three, if you will."

"Of course, please follow me." He replied.

The waiter guided them to one of the backrooms where was stored a large mirror. He took one of his pens before swiftly smashing it in the glass. Instead of breaking the glass wavered and showed another room.

"If you would."

Thanking the waiter, the two stepped in the GOC's special restaurant, _Il Insolito._ They sat at one of the tables, not ordering yet, rather waiting for their superior, Chandar.

Time passed as they had mundane conversations, sometimes cut by a comfortable silence spent observing the wonderful view of the snowy Alps. Finally, after half an hour waiting, their superior finally came. But it wasn't Chandar, at his place was an old Turkish man, with bushy eyebrows, a hard jawline and black hair, in a suit. He stopped in front of them, clacking his heels before doing a strange sign. He joined his major and ring finger with his thumb and raised his index and little finger before joining their table.

"Supervisor Alparslan." He introduced himself.

"Agent Keynes." Said Matthew, shaking the supervisor's hand.

"Agent Edwards." Replicated George.

"We're pleased to meet you." Began Matthew. "But, where is supervisor Chandar? We didn't hear about any replacement."

"Ah, yes, this was a last-minute change. Unfortunately, Mr Chandar has been deemed unable to continue working in his current position due to his... state of mind."

"State of mind?" Pardon?" Asked George.

"I cannot say more about Mr Chandar's position, neither do I really possess the knowledge to do so." He explained.

Before they could ask any more question, one of the waiters came to take their command. They each took beef meat with vegetables as well as a bottle of wine, the supervisor didn't order anything.

"Now, you have asked for reinforcements, didn't you?" Asked Alparslan.

"Indeed, we believe that we need more agents on our side. A white suit would be the best." Explained Matthew.

Their new supervisor nodded, hand holding his hands before shaking his head.

"Unfortunately, we lack the resources to grant you a white suit. Or other special agents for that matter."

"So, we're on our own." Grumbled George.

"No, of course not." Countered Alparslan. "You will receive your reinforcements. May I present you Captain Caetano ?"

Indeed, another man had approached their table. Dressed in a crisp grey military, a blue beret with a silver pin depicting a modified sigil of the United Nations adorned his head. The sigil had its left half similar to the UN's but the right was replaced with half a skull over an ace. It was too small to be read but the words spelt ' _In pace, ut sapiens, aptarit idonea bello_ ', around the sigil.

On his shoulder was a Portuguese flag and, on his chest, different ribbon and award bars. He clacked heels and saluted, arms perpendicular to the body, forearm parallel to it, and palm, at head level, opened toward them before doing a more traditional military salute.

George and Matthew shook his hand as he sat at the table.

"Captain Caetano , Detachment Bravo of the _Companhia de Precursores Aeroterrestres_ _,_ and Second United Nations' Special Operation Group. We have been deployed by Under Secretary General Al Fine, all approved by Secretary General De Vries."

"Glad to meet you, Captain. But weren't the UNSOG disbanded six years ago?"

"Not at all. We were still very much active in those last years." He informed them.

The two GOC agents nodded. The United Nations Special Operation Group was one of the most secretive units on the planet with no public documentation. They drew their operators from all countries who participated in peacekeeping and took the best and most trained of them. Said operators were often elite in their country beforehand. Their missions and results, however, were a mystery. Only the heads of the Security Council could access some documents, the only ones with full access were Al Fine and De Vries. Furthermore, the previous Secretary-General had supposedly disbanded them but evidently, that was a lie.

"I suppose you are already familiar with our world, captain." stated Matthew.

"I am indeed. I had the honour to participate in several missions which included an anomalous element, just like my men." He confirmed, a tinge of pride in his voice.

"How many members does your group count? And what is your speciality?"

"We are eleven including myself. I would say we are an all-around task force but we do have strong points concerning airborne interventions and urban combats. We also have a helicopter in the city, near where we reside, which is always ready to take off. We are ready at a moment's notice." He informed them.

"Very well. We are confident in your capacities." Said Matthew with a smile.

The Captain looked pleased, shook their hands for a second and bid them goodbye, repeating his salute before exiting the restaurant.

"I think that will be all." Informed them Alparslan, getting up, shaking their hands, repeating his salute before exiting the restaurant.

George looked at Matthew with a questioning look to which he replied with a shrug. They did wonder what those salutes meant, but, oh, food had arrived.

"You know." Began George his mouth already full. "I feel that something is going to go down, soon."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Wanda Carter sighed deeply, rubbing her weary eyes before picking up the phone. She was in one of the few phone booths of Site-19. Phone calls were to be regulated and only a handful of people were granted a liberal use of their cell phones. The phone booths were also recorded but no one listened, unless the robot detected a trigger word or sentence or if one was under investigation.

She dialled the number, waited as the phone rang. It was night here, and if she calculated right then it would be the perfect time to call. Finally, the other phone was picked and a voice she was familiar with answered.

" _Hello, Carter here."_

"Hey dad, guess who?" She asked with a light tone.

" _Wanwan! How are you?"_ Answered her father, relief dripping in his voice. " _Ya could've called sooner, wouldn't have hurt ya."_

It had been months since Wanda had been deployed and she only had the time to talk to her father once. Furthermore, Arthur Carter was a bit of a helicopter parent. Despite the accusations, a grin still split her features.

"Sorry about that dad, just a lot of work. I'll call sooner next time. Promised." She added, after hearing her father sceptical 'humpf'.

" _I hope so, I'll await young girl_." He said with a laugh. _"Now, how goes your, uhm, exercises right?"_

Her parents only knew that she was part of an international NATO regiment which operated in all member countries, as well as with other allies, and executed various peacekeeping and relief missions and training.

"Well, right now, we're in the US, doing desert training." She informed him, according to the rules she wasn't breaching secrecy.

" _Desert training? That's rough, take care of yourselves, and drink water, okay! Six pints of water a day, alright?"_ He lectured her.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry, I can take care of myself."

" _Well, that's not what I saw last time."_ He reminded her of that little embarrassing incident.

"Urgh, that was two years ago, can you let it slide?"

They continued their banter for a few minutes before switching to more casual and friendly topics of discussion, including her father new set of brushes and paint but also some grumbling about raised taxes, which followed barely two months after the latest.

 _"Haha. Oh, also_ _ **dearest**_ _daughter."_ He stressed the word, dearest. _"Any luck finding a boyfriend?"_

"W-w-what is that kind of question? Leave me alone!" She spluttered.

" _O~oh, is my little girl all flustered. Strange it never happened before. So di-_ "

"No!" She grumbled down the phone.

" _So someone you are interested in?"_ Questioned Arthur, deviously.

"I-We-It'-not really..." She mumbled, stumbling on her words.

_"Aaaww, my daughter is in love. It reminds me of your high school years."_

"Please no." She sighed, rubbing her head, she really didn't want to plunge back to her high school years.

" _They all fell under your wondrous charm, eh, I bet this one will too."_

She stayed silent. She looked out, even if both of them had feelings for each other, she didn't, he was just a good looking and interesting friend, they wouldn't even be able to get together. The Foundation would never permit this, it would be brainwashing and maybe sacking for her and brainwash for him.

" _Hello?"_ Called her father, startling her. _"Are you daydreaming about your future boyfriend or girlfriend, I'm not one to judge."_

"Maybe, and you know I'm not playing with my team." She answered.

" _My, I can't wait to meet this interesting young man."_

She doubted they would ever and she voiced those doubts to her father.

" _Oh, I assume he is from another country then. Please tell me it's not a French."_

She chuckled, Arthur had never been able to get past the age-old rivalry, or maybe it was more due to the fact that he had spent a horrible honeymoon in Paris.

"No, no, it's not that." She assured him. "How-" She stopped, gulping, before continuing. "How is mother?"

Her father's carefree tone faltered for a moment before coming back.

"Well, she... you know what she's just next to me, I'll pass her the phone. Hugs and kisses Wanwan."

She wanted to tell her father to wait but she didn't have the courage. She wanted to say goodbye but her tongue wouldn't move.

" _Hello, Wanda?"_ Came the cold voice of her mother, Mara Carter.

She gulped hard and tried to calm her breathing pattern.

" _Hello?"_ Hissed Mara.

"Hello, mother, how are you?" She managed to utter.

" _I am good. You are too, according to what you said to your father."_

"Y-Yes, I am alright. What about you?"

" _You already asked me about this."_ Deadpanned Mara.

She bit her cheeks; her nervousness was getting the better of herself. What did she want? She was never one for chit chat.

" _Have you heard about the SAS?"_

She was about to yell back: What, what about the SAS!? SAS that, SAS this. Couldn't her mother let go of that? She already had her chance and failed.

"No." She simply answered, trying to keep the edge out of her voice.

" _They have new selection standards. Women are now accepted in it."_

"Oh." She said.

Silence dominated the lien for a few seconds.

" _Is that all you have to say?_ " Asked Mara.

"Yes." She answered firmly.

" _I see. Goodbye."_ And just like that, she ended the conversation;

"Goodbye." Said Wanda to no one as the phone's beep rang.

She exited the booth and went to her bedroom. Bloody Special Air Service, she thought. Couldn't they stay, for one time, conservative? Now she knew that each time she called her parents she would bug her about it. She sighed and went back to the gruesome work of retrieving corpses. At least the roars hadn't bothered her during the call.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Touma sighed as he heard the roar for the umpteenth time. He looked at his right hand, clenching it. It had work half correctly. Despite having definitely touched the beast his hand hadn't made it disappear completely, instead the thing was now flashing in and out of existence. And it roared even louder. It was probably in pain.

He had been dragged away from the beast by a guard, they said that they would build a new prison for 682 around the monster itself as it was hard to transport it in its current state. For now, Touma was also stuck where he was, in one of the cafeterias of the Site. It was rather empty if one didn't take one in account the ten guards positioned at the entry points or the catwalk overlooking the room.

Alone with his thoughts, he wondered. Why? Why it didn't work? It had worked fine with the previous SCPs. Well actually no, SCP 096 still did come back from the 'dead'. Should he be worried? Maybe his hand worked differently here. Or maybe his hand had rules that he didn't know about before. He would have to be careful about that. Very careful. Who knew what could happen?

He heard a commotion by the entrance and looked. Mishimoto was talking to the guards, showed them her card and they let her pass, discreetly removing the safety from their rifles.

"SCP-0000, please follow me, you are to meet me in my office." She said with a stony face and a blank voice.

He nodded, unsettled by her behaviour, she had seemed a lot more friendly those last time. He got up and followed her through the Site. Behind the guards tailed them, not letting them out of their sight for a second.

Finally, after some minutes of silent walk, they entered her office. The guards tried to follow them but were stopped by Mishimoto.

"We have orders, let us in." Argued one of the soldiers.

But she only shook her head.

"This is a psychologist office, do you have an appointment?"

"Well, no b-"

"Good, now leave me alone. My clearance is high enough." She said, before closing the door.

Despite their protestation, the guards relented but one of them couldn't help but shout.

"If you have any problem, knock on the door and we kick it down, alright?" He directed the word to Touma, who replied with a nervous laugh.

Finally, Mishimoto managed to close the door and lock it. Still, with her unfazed look, she approached Touma, who began to squirm uncomfortably. He stumbled back as she approached him.

"Hmm, Mi-mishimoto-san?" He squeaked out.

"Kamijou-san." She spoke in a foreboding tone, her face mere centimetres from his.

"Y-yes?"

A karate chop landed on his hand, drawing a small pained yelp from the boy.

"What was that for?" He asked.

She looked at him with a gold gaze.

"What do you think for? You really are dense." She sighed, brushing her hair with her hand. "I mean, you're the only kind of stupid to charge that monster alone."

"Well, what was I supposed to do?" He asked.

She flicked his front.

"Run. And let the professionals take care of it."

"Then what do I do when the professionals get killed? I cannot let that kind of thing unfold!" He rented, before dropping in a sofa. "Too many died before I could do anything." His head dropped. "What kind of person would I be if let that slide. What would I be? I have this hand." He lifted said limb in the air. "Tell me, what is my purpose with this hand?" He asked rhetorically. "If I have this power it is to save people not to sit idle while others are hurt!" He finished by yelling.

"You are right."

"Uh?" He uttered, not expecting her to agree so quickly.

"You are right. Your purpose is to save people. But." She crouched near him. "Who will save you? And who can you save if you die?"

"Well, I mean... I can take care of myself." He replied, looking away.

She placed her hand on the side of his face and brought back his eyes on her.

"You know, humans like many animals are creatures whose strength is found in pack, or rather community for us. This comportment was made possible with natural selection. Most of the loners, those who hunted alone, who strayed from the pack, made the tribe died. All this to say one thing. We, humans, are stronger together, not alone. I do not know what you faced before coming here, because yes, I know you faced things nobody should have, and you may have survived alone. But here. Here, as you can see, things are different. So please. Please. Don't be so foolish. Of course, you will fight. But do not do it alone, alright?" She took his hand, her eyes softened boring into his.

He blushed a bit, looking away before muttering.

"I don't want people to get in danger."

She sighed, going to her desk and sat on it.

"Those people, those guards, those scientists, Wanda, myself. We all signed up knowing that every day may be the last. Of course, no one wants that, but such is life. You know, we have a saying here, it's an unofficial motto. We die in the dark so you may live in the light."

She took one of her files.

"We are ready to die, but we still value our life. But I don't know if I can say the same about you."

Touma looked at her, eyes wide.

"What do you mean?"

She began to read the file.

"Touma Kamijou aka SCP-0000 aka Imagine Breaker. Psychological evaluation. Saviour Complex, due to the subject's will to save people despite having no personal stake in this, to the point of putting his own life and needs in danger. Lack of self-worth and suicidal tendencies, reasons already stated. Suspected Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Depression, common in residents. Possible closet narcissism, the subject does tend to express aggressively his disagreement and may seek personal fulfilment for being humble and helpful. That is the list of your possible psychological illness." She explained, setting down her file.

Touma said nothing, lacking words.

"Well, the last one is probably an over-exaggeration. I was not the only one to fill this report, some observed your comportment during your different, uhm, adventures, and determined this. But." She approached him once more. "There is one thing none thought of putting and that I have kept as a complete secret."

Touma gulped as she looked down on him, her eyes cold like frost.

"Touma Kamijou suffers from Post Traumatic Retrograde Amnesia. You do not remember your past life before a traumatic incident. Am I right?"

The boy was mute, several empty seconds passed before he could muster the strength to talk.

"How? How do you know? Did you listen when I was talking to 9341?" He asked, recalling that moment where he revealed his secret.

"No. After a very careful analysis of your different reactions and responses to my questions, I managed to deduce this. I wasn't a hundred percent sure, but now I know."

"I see." He said with a bitter tone, his head dropping. "I am not very good at lying."

"A question for you."

He shrugged, it wouldn't hurt.

"Do you think your rather, suicidal feats, are caused by the fact that you think you are an imposter? That you are not Kamijou Touma."

Once more the individual in question kept his silence, not facing the speaker. He felt something stir in him. Fear. Fear that this person right now was seeing right through him, through the layers he thought he had erected to ward off others. In a way, it reminded him too much of what Othinus did before when she was trying to break him into suicide. Those thoughts and memories, that his mind had buried to protect itself awakened and the dormant traumatism triggered something in him.

"YOU SHUT UP!" He yelled, getting up and seized her by the collar.

She did not abandon her cool composure, in fact, her eyes became even more steely and gently she pushed him back. He fell back on the sofa, silent.

"Sorry, I, I-." He muttered.

She sat next to him.

"Don't worry, you didn't harm me. And I may have gone a bit too far." She admitted. "I'm sorry to have been so direct, and well, asshole-ish. But... I wanted you to understand that I know what troubles you. I understand you. I want to help you. And I am not the only one. Have you noticed how the guards reacted? Now, protecting you is not only their job but also one of their desire, your determination and acts put you in a different light. Now you are not some SCP, you are the one who stood up to 682 and who saved them."

As she spoke, she progressively, slowly, pulled the young man into a hug. She stroked his back, gently and reassuringly. He did not budge.

"There are people who care about you, more than you think, people who would mourn your death. So please, please, save people, but always, always take care of yourself. How can you save others from harm if you are wounded, killed or worse?"

She nuzzled his head in the crook of her neck.

"What do you say?" She asked.

"I-." He withdrew his body from hers. "I'll try to be more careful." He offered her a small smile.

What could he say to that? She had a way of talking, a way which did hit a sensitive cord. She was making a point. If he wasn't careful, who knew what could happen to him? He was not a hero. He was not a saviour. He was just someone who wanted the fewer people hurt. On the idealistic side of the balance, he still knew he had limits. There had been time and time where he had nearly crossed them. She was right, this world was different and maybe being more careful would be more helpful. He hoped.

She smiled at him, feeling relieved that he accepted.

"I'm glad. And remember. I may not be strong like those soldiers, like Wanda, like Adams, or even like you. But you can trust me. You can tell me what's wrong. I'll be there for you. Always." She assured him.

"I-I'll try..." He answered, nodding slowly.

"That's all I ask."

Both looked away, slightly blushing. The room was filled with comfortable silence.

"Oh and also." Mishimoto broke the silence. "Since the Site is in repair and renovation you will be transferred to another Site with the rest of the staff and MTF Alpha-9. But before, as you requested you will be granted a free day, under escort of course, outside."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Escaping from the United Nations' base had been harder than expected. The JSDF clamped down on the region very soon, helicopters roared in the sky accompanied by their silent brethren, drones. But thanks to their political leverage and contacts the search was soon cancelled in certain places. It was on unbarred highways that the cars transporting the group travelled. They gave the cube to one of the soldiers who stored it in a slightly bigger box which he attached to his uniform.

Most slept, not all by choice as they were still unconscious. But Misaka Mikoto… Oh did she not sleep. She was with her Imoutos, to protect them, and she was furious. The feeling kept her going. She was impatient, tapping on the dashboard, barely containing her electricity as not to make the car malfunction.

After two hours the windows darkened, like before and then it was only over an hour more of travel until they arrived at the Site. Misaka disembarked without hesitation. A small group of Site guards, not Lerouge's soldier welcomed them.

"Where is Lerouge?" She asked, storming toward them.

All of the guards stumbled back, except one, too asleep to react. He found himself to be the target of Misaka's wrath much to his dismay and looked around, trying to find support, but all of his colleagues found a sudden interest in the ceiling and their feet.

"Oi, you're deaf or what?" She growled.

He gulped but tried to show a brave face.

"I'm afraid he is asleep, tommo-"

"I am going to help our wounded to the medical ward and you will lead me to his bedroom. Alright?" Her tone left no room for negotiation, and he found himself agreeing to a girl half his age and frame's demand.

After a quick visit at the medical ward where she escaped the clutches of fatigued but professional doctor and nurses, she headed toward Lerouge's resting place, accompanied by Othinus and Kanzaki. She stomped through the corridors, her grievances on the tip of her tongue.

They were stopped in the hallway by four armed white-clad soldiers who shook their head every time she tried to convince them to let her pass. She was about to do something very shocking, to say the least when a voice rang in the corridor.

"Let them through, I couldn't sleep anyway."

The soldiers parted, obeying their master's order and revealing said master. He was dressed in his usual way, white suit and shirt with a red tie, but his hair was messy, dark bags underlined his eyes and a stain of coffee, which he was holding a mug of, had ruined his pants' left leg.

"Please follow me." He said in a tired tone, departing without waiting for their answer.

"Hey! Wait you..." Called Misaka, running after the man.

She opened her mouth as she approached him but he silenced her.

"Please wait, we will discuss in my soundproofed office." He informed them.

When they entered the office and each sat, Othinus on Misaka's shoulder, they finally began.

"So, what do you want?" Lerouge opened the discussion.

"We nearly died because you didn't tell us there were mines and a madman with an exoskeleton?"

The man hummed before taking a gulp of coffee.

"Well, the mines were new and we didn't think they would have installed any, the United Nations do not do this normally. You have my most sincere apologies. However, we did know about Asahi." He revealed.

"Well then why didn't you tell us?" Asked Misaka, a snarl on her face.

"Because this was a test." He replied. "You may have noticed that Asahi held back when attacking your clones and Mr Magnus, but exposed more of his strength when battling you, Ms Kaori? We knew about this individual for a rather long time and that he never killed someone in his life. We were confident that if you were to face him, you would come out on top without any dead. We also wanted to know your capacities concerning facing the unexpected. We are satisfied with the results." He revealed, punctuating his tirade with yawns.

"You could have still warned us. Withholding such information... You're not making this cooperation easier. And who is this we? Who are the others running the show here?" Asked Kanzaki.

"I promise that this was only for this test. The briefings of the next missions will contain everything we know. However, as for your second question, I do not have the freedom to reveal this information. You have my apologies. Now, if there is nothing else, I suggest you rest."

"Do you have any information on Kamijou Touma?" Asked Othinus.

The man shook his head.

"Unfortunately not but we are looking. The cube that you brought back, might help us in that regard. Now, I bid you goodnight." He said as they left.

He was about to enjoy some sleep when he received a call from The Administrator or rather one of the proxies that acted like him, under his authority. He sighed, he really had no choice.

"Hello." He said as he picked up the phone.

 _"Researcher Lerouge, how did Special Group Aletheia perform?"_ Came the voice, blunt and cold.

"Satisfying well, sir. But they are impatient about retrieving SCP-0000."

" _Very well. In any case, we have a new mission for them, in a few days."_

"Do tell, sir."

" _I will send you a file later, but I will give you a summary. The Unusual Incidents Unit has-"_

**A CERTAIN SCP**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of the chapter! Thank you for reading.
> 
> Now to explain some of the political symbolism. I think you all probably recognised which ideology the serpent's hand people followed. Anarchism and Marxism. First of, Sten is a Soviet name, not the Scandinavian one, which is the contraction of Stalin and Engel (The communist philosopher who wrote with Marx not Monika), and a Tankie is a name for someone apologizing the crime of the Soviet Union, though its more of an insult. It comes from the 1956 anti-soviet socialist Hungarian uprising.
> 
> As for Goldman, her name comes from the famous anarchist Emma Goldman, and her mask of course from Guy Fawkes, a icon for anti-authoritarian and libertarian movements. Now she doesn't like being called a 'Trots' because this the short for Trotskyists, which are pretty much the sworn enemies of Anarchists. As in 'Hey, it's Trotsky, I just betrayed and executed your entire military command that I invited under a white flag, how is it going anarkiddies?' sworn enemies.
> 
> Now for the GOC its a bit harder to recognize them. The two are fascists, from different strains. Alparslan's sign is the one of the Grey Wolves, the paramilitary wing of the Turkish Nationalist Action Party. They are ultra-nationalists and neo(-Ottoman)-fascists. Alparslan is the name of the founder of the Nationalist Action Party, though they are not related.
> 
> On the other hand, Caetano, did a shortened and not really well known version of the fascist salute, you can sometime see some Nazi officials doing it when a full one is too long or impractical. The salute was used by the Estado Novo, the christian-corporatist fascist dictatorship which ruled Portugal from 1933 to 1974. And Caetano is the name of the ruler from 68 to 74. They are not related either.
> 
> Now some of you might say: 'Yeah I mean the Hand are commies, but I don't think the GOC are fascist." And I'll answer yes and no. It is clearly stated that the GOC was formed a lot from remnants of Nazi and fascists cults. And while not all members of the GOC are fascists I do think a good part of them are or flirt with it, add that to the necessity of pitting the opposites that are the GOC and Hand against each other for a future arc, and you got fascists.
> 
> Have a nice day, and be nice to each other in the reviews.
> 
> Don't hesitate to fav/follow if you liked or to PM for further precisions or other things.
> 
> Bye
> 
> Orakle.


	21. Sortie in A City of Angels

Illya Ponomarenko sat at his table, he cracked his neck and looked around. He was in the dining room of his family farm. It had been a hard day of work for the two of them and he was so starved, he could eat a man.

"Yaro?" He called his wife.

No answer.

He got up, and headed toward the kitchen, as he inhaled the smells of cooking. He pushed the door only to reveal an empty kitchen. He rushed to the pot as the water threatened to boil over. He shut the gas.

"Yaro!?" He called another time, a bit louder.

He noticed that the door leading to other parts of the house was opened and decided to follow the presumed path his wife had taken. He walked around the house in silence, old photos of better times accompanying him.

He followed the trail of opened doors, before stopping. The altar where was placed the orthodox cross and the depictions of saints and the prophet had been desacralized. The cross had been turned down and the holy men had trails of red coming out of their eyes.

He groaned in anger. Someone had entered his house and messed with his altar, that both worried him and irritated him to no end. He went in his room to take his hunting rifle, he would probably not shoot the blasphemer but at least give him enough of a scare so he wouldn't come again.

His worry about his wife only grew. He decided to continue to follow the trail of opened doors. He kept calling her name.

"Yaroslava?"

He heard something, her voice, coming from his right and doubled his pace. He finally arrived at the stables. He was sure her voice originated from here.

"Yaroslava!?"

Nothing, he continued to walk. He looked at the horses. He saw their nervousness. He gripped his rifle. He kept walking. He heard a gurgling sound. He removed the safety. He kept walking. He heard something drip. He shouldered his rifle.

It was coming from a box. It was supposed to be empty.

He opened it very carefully. Darkness. He blinked. He screamed. He fired. Nothing. He prayed. He fired. Something. Not its own. He prayed. He fired. Nothing. He stumbled back. He felt something. He tried to turn. He couldn't. He felt something. His heart. And then. He saw nothing. Forevermore.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Like hundreds of others Wanda Carter was saluting, palm forward. She was dressed in her ceremonial uniform, black kepi bearing the silver insignia of the Foundation, black tunic reaching mid thighs with silver buttons and white lining with a similar pant, black riding boots, a white and silver aiguillette coming from the same coloured insignia of MTF Alpha-9 completed the uniform, going from the breast to the shoulder, before passing under it and joining the two ends. The Alpha-9's insignia was a stylized Pandora box with angels' wings and a four-pointed star in the middle, all in a circle. A sheath of black leather hung on her white belt, around her waist with a silver buckle forming a Foundation sigil.

Around her were the hundreds of other soldiers and guards stationed at Site-19 as well as members of Mobile Task Force Epsilon-11 all dressed in the same fashion or with variants, hat decorations, a special distinction or other accessories. The scientists, administration workers and other non-combat personnel were dressed in black suits with silver Foundation pins fitting the funeral. Those whose face could not be revealed had high-end device blurring their features. Only the SCPs were absent.

"... Erik Simmons."

Three blank shots went off.

"...Trevor Smalls."

Three shots.

The ceremony continued for a bit, before coming to an end when the names of all the deceased, over ninety, were spoken, this included everyone from the lowest intern to the highest ranked victim, one of the Site Advisor, passing by the guards. A flame was lit in their memory and everyone was invited to pay their respects. The numerous photos of the dead, at least those whose face could be revealed were displayed on an altar. This flame would later be moved to Site-19's memorial which contained a great number of flames, one for each great Containment Breach but also the name of all the deceased, carved in small characters on the walls.

She herself went to the flame and as the custom wanted quickly passed her hand through it and muttered the words.

"We all are grateful for your sacrifice. May your death create a safer world for all."

She then let her place to the person behind and went to join the personnel assembled outside the ceremonial hall. She found herself amidst a group of soldiers and guards discussing the recent breach.

"Hey, aren't you the one that is in an MTF with Zero?" One asked.

"Uh, yeah, why?" She counter asked.

"Well, first, uh, give him my thanks. Because damn, he saved my ass down there. Nearly killed myself if that wasn't for that little bastard. So yeah, I'll buy him a beer if he can one day." Said the man.

"Oh alright, I guess."

"Uhm, and." Began another person, a scientist. "Tell him I'm sorry. He also saved my life and I kinda acted like a jerk when he told me he was a skip. I'm pretty sure he'll remember."

"Wait he saved your life too?" Questioned the first, surprised.

"And he fucking busted 173, 096, and 682." Said another.

"Haha, a couple more like him and they put us to welfare." Joked a fourth, drawing a round of very quiet chuckles.

"Ffuucking buureaucratss." Spat one. "Preetty suure they behind thisss breaaach." Said a fifth.

His uniform was a bit dishevelled, just like his hair and his speech was slurred. Wanda looked at him with narrowed and dark eyes.

"Goddamit Terry, you're drunk, let's get you back to your bunk." Sighed one of his colleagues, approaching him.

The one named Terry batted away his approaching colleague, muttering.

"I-I'm not druuunk. I'm juuust saad." He stated. "Buuut have you notiiiced that the higher ups just fuucking vaAnished before this fuucking thing." He slurred.

The man's eyes caught those of one of the senior scientists, one who wasn't on the Site during the Breach.

"It's your fault if they all died! Murderer! Trai-" Shouted the drunken guard, before being restrained by two colleagues who put their hand over his mouth.

"This is a funeral. Shut up, you're disrespecting the dead." Hissed one of them.

But the deed was done, everyone had heard them, many threw the man dark glares and the scientist looked like a deer caught in headlights.

The drunk was dragged away from the ceremony by three guards under the eyes of the mourning personnel. An uncomfortable silence settled over the assembly. She sighed and decided to retreat as many discussions opened about what the man said.

"Do you think...?" Asked one, trailing off, fearing to say the last half.

"Nah, I mean one of them Advisors died." Another answered.

"What if they wanted to eliminate him?" Whispered a third.

Silence.

"Pretty sure the Breach was made because they weren't here." Proposed a last. "There was already talk among the high ups of going out of the Site for... whatever high ups do."

None answered back, most agreed but all still felt a certain unease. The possibility that this was true was terrifying, and for most something that they had kept in the very back of their mind.

Wanda, however, would have none of it. She doubted this was an orchestrated breach, after all, what could the brass gain from that? That man had made himself of disrespectful conduct, especially during an official ceremony, of defamation and insubordination. She shook her head as she entered her room.

What kind of organization would they be if they disrespected their superiors? How could they work and function correctly? He had put doubt in the well-oiled machine that was the Foundation, ruining the gears that protected the world. What a foolish man.

She removed her hat, putting it respectfully on her small wardrobe before someone knocked on the door.

"Enter." She allowed, righting her features.

Agent Adams entered the room, dressed in long black blouse jeans and her black ray-bans. Wanda raised an eyebrow at her inappropriate outfit, considering the day and place. She didn't have the time to open her mouth that the other woman fired a salvo of words.

"Get changed in civilian, we're going out. Gotta accompany Zero on his day out." She said. "Meetup in an hour in front of the second hangar bay."

Just like she arrived Adams left her before she could ask any question. Instead, she did as told, changed in her civvies and went for hangar bay two.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

No time to breath, thought Kamijou as he was dragged by agent Andrea Adams under the baffled eyes of Site 19's personnel. Five guards laboriously tried to remain at their height to escort them. At the moment Touma barely understood what was going on. He had been told that his sortie had been agreed but he hadn't expected it that soon. He hadn't expected Adams to barge in his medical ward, wake him up, give him clothes and bark at him to get ready.

He was dressed in a generic short sleeved white t-shirt, grey jeans and white trainers with black linings. He had to speed up to keep up with Adams fast pace which managed to go faster walking than the guards jogging fast behind.

They found themselves before the door leading to the second hangar bay, where Adams sent away their escorts. They entered the bay after confirming their identity. It was a large sub-building containing a large array of aerial vehicles. In the middle, swarming with technicians doing last minutes check, rested a business jet of about twenty metres.

"That's our ride." Adams informed him, leading him to the plane.

They climbed the jet, inside was Gamma squad as well as Iris. The seats were arranged so that most people could see each other, Everyone nodded toward the two of them as they settled in one of the seats, Touma choosing one of the most withdrawn seats, near the windows in the back.

The Gammas, consisting of Wanda, the medic Mary Jenner, the tall corporal Henry McKenzie, the two First Class Karen Walker, Luan Botha, the Electronics and Informatics Specialist Nathan Miles, the Containment Specialist Cameron Jensen and finally the Sniper and Survivalist Ansa Aho.

They were all, except for Wanda and Cameron Jensen, dressed in a similar way with sunglasses and jacket. And for Cameron Jensen whose face was covered by a balaclava, a ski mask and a black helmet.

Iris was dressed in a sky-blue shirt and darker blue trousers, her Polaroid camera slung around her neck, while Wanda was in a white shirt with a jeans jacket and a matching pant.

"Alright, all here? Good. I'll be your superior for this 'mission'." She air quoted the last word. "This is an escort mission. Our objective is to protect Mr Kamijou and Ms Thompson during their sortie."

The plane's engine roared to life, as it began to move, turning to face the opening exit of the bay. The windows were obstructed, to keep any to spot any landmarks which would help to localise the Site. The top of the plane, however, had thick windows allowing natural sunlight and the sight of the blue sky in the aircraft.

"We will dep- attach your seatbelts, parachutes and life jackets under your seats- as I said, we will deploy our forces in the following way: Carter and I will escort Kamijou and Thompson through their date."

She was vehemently interrupted by the two teens but ignored it with a slight grin.

"McKenzie and Jenner, you're mid-range escorts, you'll try to be far enough not to appear with us but close enough to intervene. Aho, you'll follow your route as planned, here's a skeleton key to get on buildings' roof. As for the others, you will stay outside of the mall and travel in a separate car, with the three previous, understood? And Jensen, if you have to get out in civvies, for the love of god pull your mask off."

Affirmations were exclaimed as the plane took speed and after a bit of rocking pointed to the sky. Touma turned to Iris, the closest person to him.

"Did you get dragged out too?" He asked, rather curious about her presence.

She nodded.

"Yeah, I didn't even ask." She sighed, sadly. "But it is not like they really care." She muttered bitterly.

"What did you say after?" He asked, her muttering too low to be heard.

"Nothing important." She half lied.

On the others side of the passenger compartment, Wanda was talking to Adams.

"Why don't we take the usual routes? It's shorter and surer."

Adams shook her head, cleaning her Ray-bans.

"We can't, who knows what will happen if we drive through them with him. And don't worry this plane is well protected again guided missiles and thaumaturgy." She reassured the woman.

The flight didn't last long, barely over thirty minutes before the pilot announced their imminent arrival. As the plane touched the ground of Los Angeles and ground to a halt they disembarked amidst the heat of the City of Angels.

The group of four, the two SCPs and their bodyguards joined a prepared car while the rest of the escort climbed in a large white van. But before that Touma spoke to the young sniper.

"Be careful." He whispered.

She looked at him, a tint of suprise in her eyes, which soon transformed into a warmer sentiment.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. You watch out."

He smiled at her before heading toward the car Adams was starting up.

"Where are we going?" Asked Touma as he took one of the backseats.

"L.A mall." Briskly answered Adams, the driver.

They inserted themselves in the city's traffic, the white van not far behind them. Touma looked around, the sounds and colours of a true metropolis had been a very absent part of his daily life, and in a way, despite being in another city in another dimension, it felt a bit like home.

Well, it was still much louder than Academy City who possessed vast pedestrian-only space and silent or noise reduced cars. The pollution was also thick in the air.

Opening the window Adams lit a cigarette, putting one hand on the steering wheels as she slowly advanced through the thick stream. Seeing an opportunity to overtake some cars, she gave a sharp turn left, nearly ramming into another car coming a bit too fast.

Then a bike got in the middle, blocking everything. And the horning began. Adams groaned. Finally, after a few moments of honking and insults she could finally move freely, but not after addressing a final middle finger.

"People, I swear." She growled.

Unbeknownst to her, she had attracted the attention of someone. Samuel sighed in frustration as the traffic got worse. He observed the nearby cars and their occupants. Great car; not bad; pretty good; oh, that guy with a prize on any info on him, nice bi- wait what?

He whipped back his head to one of the cars, took out a photo and... yup, that was him. He took out his phone, took a quick pic as the traffic regained its usual flow and sent it. He soon received a confirmation and a place and date for the payment. He grinned, a pic against enough money to reimburse his family's debt? A gold deal he chuckled. Another message popped up, to follow the target and give its location when asked of. Even more money. There was no questioning, no pain and yes gain.

In another part of the city, two agents of a certain Global Coalition readied themselves, taking their infiltration suits, guns, and called for their reinforcements to get ready.

Adams looked in her rear-view, she had a bad feeling. It was impossible to see if someone was already tailing them. She ran her hand in her hair, just her paranoia to be sure. But one never knew she thought as she felt her handgun safely nestled in a concealed holster.

Finally, after about forty minutes of driving Adams parked near the mall, cursing the lack of shadowed place, the sun was hitting hard those days.

"Stick close." She ordered as she got out of the car, looking around to verify that nobody was following them.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the white van of their escort stop to unload both Ansa, bearing a large violin case as well as McKenzie and Jenner. She carefully inspected the area before entering the mall.

But her vigilance was for nothing as her location had already been communicated as well as her appearance and those of her companions. Soon, from another entrance came Matthew and George, dressed in their suits and tie.

Touma was rather uncomfortable. What should have been a normally casual sortie, like those he could have done at Seventh Mist back home, had transformed into a robotic visit of a mall. He could not shake the feeling of unease that Adams gave him. She had a certain presence which reminded him of the Foundation, she was a beacon of the organization's aura. It was even more stressful as she looked around everywhere, looking tense.

Despite following a, strangely for a mall, guided tour, he felt like a lost soul roaming in the limbos. He observed the people around him who went to their businesses, most sporting a smile or an eased expression. To take his mind off the strange situation he noted the differences between here and Academy City, which started with a much larger pool of ethnics and age, Academy City being mostly inhabited by young students coming from Japan.

He also noted the differences in clothing, which either seemed to show more skin or be a lot ampler. He sighed, he really had to be bored to make such observations. He trained his uninterested eye to the different products, well, it was good and all to have such a profusion of everything but did it serve anything if he didn't have any money. That wasn't mentioning the fact that he doubted he would be allowed to wear anything else than his usual orange clothes.

Those questions were answered when Adams tapped him on his shoulder.

"Just forgot to say that you've about one hundred and fifty dollars to spend in any way you'd like, except illegal of course. Any clothes you buy can be worn out of the Site, or in it for special occasions." She informed him.

He nodded, and for once began to look around for any kind of clothes that would suit him. Going to the men section, still shadowed by Wanda he scoured the alleys, looking for something to wear. He noticed that Wanda was rather gloomy and silent.

"Something bugging you?" He asked, finally speaking after a good hour of mutual silence.

She took some time to realize he was talking to her before she shook her head and replied.

"No, it's nothing."

"Really?" He questioned, doubtful.

"Yes." She answered her voice containing some irritation.

She could not help but think back to her infuriating conversation with her mother as well as the ceremony's accident.

Touma decided to drop the matter for now, with his luck and oratory skills he would only get her angrier. And as such he decided to focus back his attention to the clothes on hand. He was near a window, looking at a set of shirts when two werewolves near twins walked by.

Jordan and Kendrick were shopping in the mall. Correction, they were window shopping. As if they had any money to spare on such frivolous things as luxury or quality clothes. As such, as they observed the windows of different stores they fell nearly face to face with their target, with only a thin glass separating them.

Thinking he was escorted by an ungodly amount of Foundation jailors they quickly retreated, before warning G.L of Touma's location. They decided to try to follow him discreetly, waiting for him to get out of the store.

Meanwhile, the Serpent's Hand local chapter and G.L had mobilized to seize the occasion.

Touma bought two outfits, one similar to his old one, an orange t-shirt with geometrical motifs, a white shirt and black pants. The other was composed of a grey shirt, grey jeans and a black cargo jacket. He was a simple man with simple tastes in clothing he thought as Wanda tapped the code of the banking card.

"Hey, Adams wants to see us, she is at the women section, come with me." Said Wanda.

He followed her as they went through the women alleys, looking for Adams. They found her near the changing booth which was separated by large thick curtains, as they approached, she said something to someone in a booth, probably Iris.

She grinned before settling her shaded on them, a serious expression replacing her features. She beckoned Wanda to come closer.

"Listen, we may have some troubles. There are two GOC agents in the mall near us. I know them, they're specialised in the capture of human skips. We'll be moving so-" She was cut off in her whisper by what she saw by the shop window.

Matthew and George were inspecting one of the stores, thankfully they hadn't looked their way, and as such didn't spot Touma. Adams acted on instinct. Without warning, she pushed Touma, right in the booth.

George and Matthew looked their way, only to see two unknown women having a friendly discussion. One of them looked their way, their eyes met hers for a moment before quickly breaking, like in any normal instance.

"He was last seen in this store, let's get in." Said George, walking toward the shop where the Imagine Breaker was, his colleague in tow.

Said unlucky boy was as always in a precarious situation. When you shove someone into a changing booth you can expect certain consequences. Such as a certain Kamijou finding himself before a changing Iris.

Topless, with only a bra, the female SCP looked at her male counterpart whose eyes slowly tried to drift from her form. Beads of sweat ran down his face, as he imagined his fate to be sealed. She would surely scream, kick him out and he would probably get mauled to death by a mob of angry women. As it nearly happened sometimes back in the Gakuen Toshi.

Iris wasn't totally topless, she still had her holster with her handgun, which her hand began to dangerously drift to as her face took a bright red hue. But she decided to let the boy a chance, as his entry didn't seem to be his choice.

"What are you doing here?" She hissed between her teeth.

"Adams shoved me into it, I swear, this unfortunate Kamijou is innocent." He pleaded quietly, hand before him as he fixed the wall intently.

She gaped. Did Adams do that because she had asked her about Kamijou out of the SCP that had become the talk of the Site? The woman had teased her like she had the habit to and now she just shoved him into her booth. Was she mad? Probably.

Anyway, she was about to tell the frozen boy to get out when Adams' voice rang.

"Stay in there for a few seconds still. Do not get out." She stressed the last sentence.

The two GOC agents were advancing, still facing their direction.

Iris' eyebrows rose. That was a bit too far for a joke, maybe there was something else. Something that couldn't be said. Well, if he had to stay there, she would at least ease his situation. She reached for her shirt, sighing. And of course, as this is a certain (un)lucky Kamijou story, the young woman tripped on the stool in the middle.

Touma was keeping his eyes to drift from Iris' inviting but dangerous curves. However, he had to look as he saw from the corner of his sight a body fall toward him. He turned to face the falling object just before it hit him.

However, he was prepared, strong from experience, he caught her body and used the momentum to turn her around so she could get up softly instead of falling on him harshly. This action caused him to lightly put her against the wall, hands on her shoulder and hip, as well as her hands to grasp his shoulders. He was going to remove his hand like any respectful person would do when the booth opened.

"Alright, l-"

Adams froze, eyebrows slowly rising as she stared at the two. She hadn't expected that for sure. Behind her, Wanda curious over the cause of her interruption poked her head to look. Her face was emotionless and looked at Touma with disappointed and cold eyes.

The two anomalies soon broke away from each other, blushing and coughing. Adams despite reminiscing all regulations and warning about inter-SCPs relations felt a grin worm its way up her face.

"Well, didn't expect that, the wedding's for tomorrow?" She chuckled before her face got serious. "Don't answer, get dressed, we have to go." She said, and without waiting departed.

The three others followed her, Iris putting back her shirt, the two SCPs wondering why the haste. Wanda quickly whispered.

"We have hostile agents. Maybe here for you." She hushed.

The two anomalies nodded as they crept through the store. They neared the exit, with Adams looking everywhere for the two men. They weren't in sight and so they all exited the shop.

"What do we do?" Whispered Wanda to Adams.

The special agent thought about it for a moment before deciding.

"We continue." Decided Adams. "If we keep going, we might attract some more rival agencies. They'll probably fight against each other."

"This is risky." Frowned Wanda.

She shrugged.

"If you want, I'll submit this to the Site Director." Proposed the brunette.

The blonde nodded. Adams took her phone and sent a message which was near instantly replied with yes. She showed the answer to Wanda who grumbled, defeated.

Adams didn't know but her plan had already worked in a way. Just after getting out, the agents of the GOC had started to shadow them, using their suit's invisibility features. However, invisibility couldn't help against the developed nose of werewolves, even in human forms, and as such the shadows soon had their own.

Behind the two women, the two SCPs were doing their best to not look at each other, still embarrassed. After a few moments of awkward silence, Touma decided to take the first step.

"Look, I'm sorry, it's just A-"

105 waved him off.

"Don't worry, it wasn't your fault. It's just Adam's. I thought she did that because I wanted to ask you a-" She shut her mouth, not wanting to reveal her interest due to her shyness.

"You wanted to ask me something?" He questioned.

She hesitated for a moment before answering.

"I just wondered if the rumours are true... Did you really fight off 682?" She whispered as if the name was forbidden.

"Yeah, I didn't really fight it. It was more me getting kicked around and the Foundation and, uh, 096, I think, fighting it." He said.

"I heard you rode it." She said.

He looked at her owlishly.

"Who in their right mind would do such a thing?"

For a moment they swore they heard Adams snicker something, a name.

"Dunno, it's just something the guards said." She admitted, speaking a bit quieter.

"That reminds me, what were you doing during the Breach?" He wondered.

"Well, I was in a mission with Team Alpha and Beta." She revealed, there was no harm in revealing that information.

"I never saw Team Alpha, what do they do?"

She thought about it for a moment before speaking.

"Pretty much the same as you. Their skip is SCP-073. A nice guy, you'd like him, I think. Also, any damage he takes will not affect him, but the thing that did it, pretty cool, uh?"

Touma nodded. That reminded him of Accelerator, though he doubted that worked the same way. For a few seconds, silence reigned, just as they entered a new store, one selling electronics.

"Say." Began the female anomaly. "Have you ever regretted having your power?" She asked as she inspected some of the articles without the want to buy.

"No." He answered without hesitation. "It might have brought me endless troubles but I'll never forget the good I made thanks to it."

She hummed.

"Lucky you."

"You don't want yours?"

She smiled sadly.

"No, I-" She didn't have the time to further explain when Adams zeroed toward them.

"We're going back to Site." She announced, leaving no room for any arguments.

Indeed, she just had reports that an agent of the Chaos Insurgency, a young girl that was part of the attack on Site 06-3, was near. It was time to leave, the Chaos Insurgency was, concerning SCP-Zero, a major problem. And as such, a retreat had to be made.

It had been out of general boredom that Monika had decided to visit the mall. She had been walking without any interest but that before spotting Wanda. She recalled the woman she had fought before retreating from Site 06-3. She frowned. What was that old hag doing there? She understood as she saw the boy just behind.

She smiled, it looked like their reunion would be sooner than expected. However, she disenchanted when she saw him right next to a blushing slightly older girl. She grimaced, would he stop that? That hag and now that other slightly younger hag. There was even an even older hag leading them! Not that it was because of anything like _that_ , no she just wished he would not create useless ties to the Foundation. It would be harder for him to leave when he would realize the uselessness and corruption of that damned organization.

She looked at the younger girl with who Touma had just engaged conversation. She reminded her of one of the skips. Which one she didn't know, she would have to be careful she thought as she devised a plan.

She felt that something was wrong. She looked to the side, meeting the eyes of Mary Jenner and Henry McKenzie, looking at her while writing something on their phones. She instantly knew they were Foundation personnel, their knee jerk reaction to their detection, looking away suddenly, only confirmed that and she decided to retreat for now before calling reinforcements for later.

The two Foundation escorts had rather appreciated their job, enjoying each other's company very much. Despite their best efforts they hadn't spotted the GOC agents tailing their charges, though nearly no human could have done that. But neither had they seen the repaired the near twins of the Serpent's Hand, though to their credits they were shadowing the invisible tails rather than the Foundation's ward.

But Kendrick and Jordan were soon followed by Monika, who had managed to recognize them, and after thinking they were themselves following Touma and his escort she decided to use her skills to dog them.

And as such Touma's group was at the head of a procession containing two amoral invisible GOC agents, two stoner Serpent's Hand werewolves and one totally not jealous and stealthy Insurgency infiltrator.

Adams doubled her pace as they neared their car. She knew nobody had approached it thanks to a proximity sensor implemented in it, but still decided to run a quick scan of the car's structure. She found a problem at one of the wheels. There was something on it, something remote controlled.

She tched and then she headed for another nearby car under the questioning eyes of the three others. She fumbled in her purse and took out a contraption she pressed against the door of their new car, a fourth generation Sedan which opened without any resistance.

"Get in, quick." She ordered.

She entered the car, broke the shell under the wheel and proceeded to hijack the vehicle. She grinned as the motor purred.

"Didn't lose it." She observed.

"I don't think it's legal." Commented Touma.

Her grin only got wider.

She manoeuvred to get out before pressing the car to maximum authorized speed and began to head toward the airport. Thankfully there weren't as many people on the road as before, it had been noon peak hour.

As she drove, still lawfully, in the streets she saw a police patrol car telling her to park. She narrowed her eyes but obeyed. As the cop approached her, she saw in her mirror another car come behind. The two agents of the GOC were in it, eyes locked on their prey. She saw the policemen give them a small sign and without any hesitation floored the pedal.

Tires screeching, she flew from the fake control. The car behind accelerated in response, eager to catch up with their target. Even further behind it was a motorbike with two people that sped up, followed by another one whose rider was a young woman.

The strange procession of before resumed but this time on mechanical steeds. And like the knight of old those drivers of new put all their skills in this chase.

Adams swerved left and right, avoiding and overtaking cars skilfully she ordered Wanda to get in the back. The British obeyed and found herself snuggled between the two SCPs, though her focus was directed toward what could come behind.

And it came, the GOC's car came in sight, following the same path as the Foundation's. George, the shotgun, or rather the thaumaturgical shotgun, put his hand out of the car and from it came a ball of freezing ice which launched itself to the car's rubber.

It missed as the car took a sharp turn to engage itself in one of the side streets. Wanda forced the head of the two anomalies down and took Iris' place near the left window and began to shoot at the pursuing car. She tried to aim but the two cars were moving too erratically and she ended up missing her targets, the wheels and windshield. Though she did hit the windscreen once, the bullet seemed to bounce off it.

She groaned and sheltered herself in the car as a pike of ice flew in the air, embedding itself into one of the palm trees planted on the street. Around, people yelled and hid from the dangerous car while Adams was shouting in her radio.

"Pursued by GOC agents. Demand police cooperation and help from UIU!"

She waited a few moments before repeating her message. Finally, a response as she engaged in another narrow street.

"We're trying, but there's a hell lot of problems. Looks like LAPD officers are fighting among themselves politically to help either the Insurgency, the GOC or us. And the UIU isn't responding." Said the Site Director over the line, stressed about the situation.

She cursed. Dammit! The damn fucking LAPD was having an existential crisis right now. And the UIUseless was ignoring treaties they profited from the most? What rotten luck.

"Oi, Gamma!" She yelled in the radio, swerving to avid different projectiles. "Could you stop fucking around and help us!"

"We're trying to catch up, we'll soon be there!" Came the voice of McKenzie.

"Hurry up!" She pressed them.

In the car behind as Matthew manoeuvred George took his phone to coordinate the different police units, they had under control. However, he soon found out, that none would answer, most were embroiled into a, for now, bloodless internal fight over who were the real criminals.

He grimaced before calling the UN's Special Operation Group.

"Get ready to intervene at the airport by helicopter." He ordered.

" _We're already at the airport, sir. We'll be there soon."_

Gathering his equipment and men Captain Caetano headed for their Black Hawk, embarking while changing in their combat uniforms.

Further behind the GOC agents Kendrick and Jordan had warned G.L that the Foundation group would likely escape by the airport, and thus the agent of the Wanderer's Library had asked of the local chapter's contact in the airport, mainly the union workers in it to try and block any private jet.

A couple of chairs flew in the air as Adams did a tight turn, both dodging a projectile which would have ended their tires and engaging in a new street.

"Do you want me to stop them?!" Asked Touma.

"What?" Yelled back Adams.

"I can block the projectiles with my hand!"

"Absolutely not! It's way too dangerous, you- oh fuck."

The road was full of children crossing, they looked at the fast-coming car like deers caught in headlights. She floored the brake, turning the car to the other side as fast as she could, ravaging anything that did not move out of her way on the sidewalks. Thankfully, most people had the brains to jump or run as far away from the mad car.

The three passengers, mainly Wanda who didn't have a seatbelt, were shoved around by the momentum of the car. Thankfully the Briton had managed to stuck herself, so she wasn't thrown around like a ragdoll.

Now faced with the thaumaturgist's car, Adams floored the gas pedal and once again accelerated fast, she drove on the pavement to avoid the enemy car who had blocked the way, putting itself cross profile.

The chase resumed as she navigated through the streets, trying to find a new way to the airport. However, Matthew and George's car were engaged by a second opponent. They didn't see the white van approach behind. Not until it was at their height and its side door opened, revealing three members of Gamma squad who began firing their weapons at the car.

The bullets barely left dents on the windows, but some parts began to crack under heavy fire. George, who was on the side of the van, summoned a magical shield with one hand before opening the window and with his other hand preparing a fragmentation grenade of ice.

The door of the truck closed quickly and the vehicle decelerated as the agent threw the grenade. It exploded in a flurry of flying stalactites, which nearly damaged the van.

Monika, the one farthest from Adam's vehicle had called Cinereous squad, so they would prepare to intervene at the airport.

Finally, Adams grinned as they engaged on the World Way, an elevated way to get to the airport. One of the tires was pierced as a bullet tore through it, but she didn't care, they were nearly out of here.

She was about to engage to the left in the fork preceding the arrival to the airport when another car came at full speed toward them. She first ignored it, but as the car got closer, she saw the unusual passengers. The co-driver, a woman, was dressed like a rioter, and the driver... was a catman?

Her eyes widened as she saw the rioter dress her hand, a portal appearing in her car.

"Get your hand in front of you!" She yelled at Touma who obeyed.

Just as he did a portal appeared before him before being swept away by his Imagine Breaker. She took a sharp turn, dodging the car and instead of going down like she should have she continued on the World Way, above the entrance to the airport.

Her tires were pierced by a hail of automatic pistol fire, and Adams had to slow down as the car drifted without control toward the barrier.

"Brace!"

The vehicle hit the barrier at a rather slow speed but despite this all of its occupants hit something, stunning them for a few seconds.

"Out! Out!" Barked Adams, opening her door and unfastening her belt.

Chaos ensued.

The GOC agents halted their car as one of their wheels passed through a portal in the ground, before it closed, sectioning it from the car. The new participants in the general chaos also stopped when their motor was pierced with a thin and long pick of ice.

The twins on motorbike took the GOC's car by behind but were themselves attacked in the back by Monika and squad Cinereous plus the Lieutenant who had arrived by car. Even further behind it was now the van of Team Gamma, minus Ansa, who had been overtaken by the bikes to arrive. And finally, from the sky came the UNSOG's Black Hawk with its payload of international fighters.

Every person who had been on the World Way escaped from their car, the fastest way possible, giving everyone an ample amount of cover.

As the Black Hawk let its occupants descend from ropes to join the GOC agents the pilot was killed, a sniper's bullet piercing clean through the cockpit. Most of the soldiers managed to jump to the ground and thus survived but one who was too high jumped and broke his legs on the hard ground. He was silenced by one of the Serpent's Hand member. The Black Hawk crashed behind, destroying a few unoccupied cars.

Positioned on the roof of the nearby hotel, Ansa Aho was looking through the scope of her rifle. And slowly began to take shots at the most direct threat of her charge, the GOC. A barrier came to block the .50 calibre projectiles.

The World Way was soon filled with thaumaturgy and people. Seeing the uselessness of her actions, as she finished unloading her first clip only for all bullets to be Ansa shifted to another target.

G.L jumped out of the car he had been using, only to see bullets stopped by a see-through shield that Sten created. It wasn't long before they, K.B, Felin, Goldman, Sten and him, dove behind covers which Sten's solid protection in bonus.

At that point with every thaumaturgist launching spells and others shooting, everybody kept behind covers, not moving an inch. The only one that could be described as free of movement was Ansa, as she was away from everyone on a tall roof.

However, to her frustration there was no one that she could hit, they all hid behind annoying supernatural shields, as such she waited for any to get out of cover.

Far behind the mess that had become the skirmish of the World Way, Monika, Cinereous squad and the Lieutenant were hiding.

"Why are we staying here?" Asked the Lieutenant, irritated.

"Our goal is to secure India-Bravo. After they finish fighting each other we'll swoop him and get him from the victor." She explained, firmly.

She bet her money on the Serpent's Hand. They had the most thaumaturgist, while the others had to mostly rely on conventional fighting forces, especially the Foundation forces which would be crushed quickly.

However, something unexpected happened. The Serpent's Hand and the Global Occult Coalition were polar opposites. One was an authoritarian anti-anomalous organization while the other was a libertarian pro-anomalous organization. This difference in ideology had sowed the seeds of mutual hatred, further reinforced by decades of fighting, assassinations, terrorist acts, tortures among other confrontations.

As such, instead of focusing on destroying the Foundation troops. The two sides began to fight against each other.

Goldman was the first to attack, taking a baseball from one of her pockets she held it for a second before throwing it. It described an arc in the air, taking fire before exploding in a flurry of fire on the thaumaturgical shield. It was followed by the bullets of K.B's Uzi and the other's different handguns.

G.L preferred to save his energy for now and just fired his firearm.

The Coalition's response was immediate, bullets laced with green landed on the Hand's protection, followed by picks of ice and balls of blue-green energy. The bullets left deep cracks on the protection. They weren't normal but rather enchanted conventional ammunition.

Seeing that the protection might not hold for long, K.B summoned her galaxy coloured portal, in the way of the bullets before making another one behind the GOC's protection. A dozen of the anomalous bullets entered the portal only to shred those who had shot them, killing two UN soldiers.

She soon had to close them though, as a wall of ice was erected before her second portal. The fight was rhythmed by interventions every time Adams and her group tried to get away. She tried to use the distraction to flee but every time she tried deadly projectiles would whistle near them. And Iris' Polaroid was destroyed when she tried to take a picture.

Team Gamma stayed behind their cover, unable to help Adams' group and also preferring the polar opposites to fight each other.

Knowing that this would draw into a war of attrition they would lose once further Foundation reinforcements arrived G.L decided to try a breakthrough.

"Transform." He asked the twins.

They smiled a toothy grin, quite literally as fangs grew from their teeth. From their hairy areas, more and more hair began to grow, creating a bushy brown fur, their muscles grew in size with their bones, finally achieving the form of the heirs of Lycan.

K.B created a portal, large enough to accommodate the two of them, she strained under the effort. The two entered it, dropping just behind the GOC. They had prepared their weapons and shot just as they entered the portal. The bullets hurt but did not bled the two werewolves. It was with pained cries that they began to wreak havoc. Or rather tried to.

Matthew took out a one hand crossbow from his back, which had a silver capped bolt loaded. He fired it at Kendrick who caught it mid-air but had to drop it, the metal burning him. This distraction was enough for George to encase the two in ice, head to toe, keeping them alive but maybe not for long.

He was about to order something when one of his men tackled him to the ground. An anti-material bullet whizzed, reaping the man who had saved his life. In their haste, they had dropped the shield.

"Oh fuck!" Yelled Matthew, summoning another protection as new projectiles zeroed toward them. One of the baseballs landed on one of the UN operators, exploding near his face. Matthew grimaced, their numbers were thinning he had to do something.

He saw a portal open next to him, and without thinking launched everything he could into the breach.

Back behind the Hand's cover, bright blue coloured balls landed in the middle of the group. All jumped from it, G.L erecting a barrier, but Sten didn't see the threat, too preoccupied with maintaining its multi-way shield as bullets crashed against it. The spells exploded, at first contained by G.L's barrier but they soon broke it, and reaped Sten, throwing him in the air and knocking him out. His barrier crumbled.

This allowed Ansa to take shots at the Hand, she first tried G.L but he was well protected, K.B was out of question due to her portal. She targeted the cat man and blew his head with a well-placed shot.

K.B's eyes widened as she saw a long-time friend's head disappear in a haze of blood. With eyes brimming of tears of rage and sadness she created a portal and stepped through it. She found herself in the air, midway to her destination, the roof of the hotel. She created another one of her constructs, plunging right through it and landing just behind Ansa.

The sniper realised barely in time that something was behind her, and turned, drawing her sidearm, just in time to see K.B appear.

The two women fired at each other, dodging the other's bullets. But soon, their guns were knocked out of their hand by gunfire. The two resorted to their close combat weapon, Ansa taking out a hunting knife while K.B drew a telescopic tonfa.

They circled around each other before K.B opened the ball. Her tonfa was countered by a blade. She smirked, flicking a switch. The tonfa began to generate electricity. But to her surprise, Ansa maintained her stone face attitude until the hunter kicked the Hand's agents in the shin.

As she retreated, K.B realized that Ansa had a bone made knife, against which electricity with weak amps would be useless. She didn't have time to think as the specialist swung her blade at her, making her step back. The swing increased in frequency until she was unable to parry or dodge, the fatigue of her previous incantations had taken a toll. She felt her flesh part way as the blade sliced it.

No. No. She couldn't lose. She had a vengeance to honour. She jumped, creating a wormhole behind herself and Ansa. She was supposed to land behind Ansa and take her by surprise but as she passed the portal to arrive behind her target, she felt the knife enter her stomach.

She found herself in front of an unimpressed specialist.

"Predictable." Simply stated Ansa before punching the hooded woman.

She fell on the ground and began to crawl away from the Finnish, blood pouring from her mouth. She yelped as she felt herself arriving at the edge of the building, the wind blew. It was high up here. A bit too high for her taste.

"You prefer to jump or to be stabbed?" Asked the sniper, knife bared.

K.B's hidden face twisted into a snarl and she withdrew her mask just to spit blood at her to be killer. This one frowned.

"The blade it is. You should feel honoured, it has killed many noble be-"

A flash.

Ansa had uttered her tirade as she approached K.B but stopped as she felt something. Something missing. She looked down to see that the place where her heart should be was not here. It didn't hurt. It just felt empty.

Blood soiled her face mask as she stumbled forward, under the stunned eyes of K.B. She felt her vision darken, the sounds around her were quieter and she was cold. Very cold.

She felt something. Wind? Too much, she looked. The ground was coming toward her. And as she closed her eyes, she could only regret. Regret to not see her homeland once more. She regretted to be unable to continue to perfect her sharp shooting. And most of all, she regretted to never see a certain SCP again. At least he would know. And then she landed. It wasn't beautiful. Her soft traits were replaced by a mess of biological matters that would give nightmares to anyone.

Everyone had paused as the sniper fell like an angel from grace. And most eyes turned to G.L, whose form was now covered by sun-like tattoos and whose eyes shone with the light of the star. He sighed in relief as he saw that his own long-range sniping had worked.

Using the moment of inattention, Kendrick and Jordan broke away from their icy prison, but had to escape under the combined fires of the GOC, but not before killing two of their soldiers. The werewolves managed to jump from the bridge, escaping the hail of bullets.

However, this was not the most interesting reaction caused by Ansa's death. The Foundation agents stayed for a moment in complete silence as one of their own died. But Touma, Touma was hit the hardest. He witnessed the scene as, one of the only people in the Foundation he had come to appreciate and maybe develop a certain affection toward, died. There was nothing glorious in her death. Nothing romantic, heroic, if any of those could be found in any death, and there was little to no chance she would come back, rising from the dead. Even SCP-008 or SCP-049 had their limits.

He had been restrained by Adams, Iris and Wanda despite begging them to let him help. He had calmed down after being told that he would only cause further harm by exposing himself. But that? That was too much. He shrugged off the hold of the two women and raced toward the Serpent's Hand position.

The three women yelled at him to get back but he ignored them. Further away, Monika's mouth dropped as she saw the boy rush alone. Did he have a deathwish? They had to intervene! She would not let him harm himself.

And thus, the Insurgency joined the chaotic dance.

Touma barrelled toward the Hand's agents who looked at him stunned, not expecting him to come out by himself.

"Hold your fire, keep pressuring the others. I'll deal with him." Said G.L, drawing his palms back.

He then launched them forward, four tendrils of pure light lashed at the Imagine Breaker's limbs, trying to ensnare them. They were batted away by the faithful right hand. Touma closed on fast and G.L once again used his thaumaturgy, creating numerous barriers around Touma, trying to trap him. But it was futile, the boy broke all of them without a care in the world.

G.L was about to use another spell when he saw Touma jump over the car he had used as protection. He didn't have the time to do anything as a fist made him fly backwards. He felt his power dissolve and his sun marked skin to return to normal. No time for anything as he was kicked down.

Goldman tried to intervene, throwing an explosive which he caught, neutralizing it, before sending the Guy Fawkes mask wearing woman to the ground with a vicious right hook.

Normally, at that point, Touma would deliver a speech about either surrendering or stop harming people. Not there, not now. His eyes turned, furious as he saw K.B step from her portal, stun baton in hand.

She swung the weapon at him which he dodged before delivering a series of reeling punch until she had her back on a car, and there a punch to the gut followed by a knee in the face sent her dreaming.

He turned as he heard something, G.L had recovered and his eyes shone once more like the celestial orb. He put his hand before him and from it came a blinding light. Hands protecting his eyes, Touma tried to catch G.L but as the light faded, he realized all the agents of the Hand had disappeared. He growled in frustration and anger, with laboured breathing, and with a punch destroyed a car's mirror, uncaring of the shard of glasses piercing his hand.

Shots began to crack, he looked around, Wanda and Adams were engaging Matthew, George and three other UN operators. Further away, the two last operators were keeping Gamma squad at bay, using their powered-up weapons to lay down suppressive fire.

Adams had to hide as her weapon was destroyed by a pick of ice. She cursed the absence of her suit. She could have wiped the floor of everyone with it. But here they were, with too much dead and unable to help or rescue their charges, pinned down by Coalition's fire and magic.

Matthew smirked, thank god for the stupidity of those Hand's commies. They would finally get to capture their objectives.

He felt his shoulder burn with pain as a bullet burrowed in it. His barriers rose almost immediately. One operator fell. Another family to call. But that wasn't the time to think about it. Coming from the road down below was a van, carrying shooting members of the Chaos Insurgency.

The Lieutenant took a canister from his belt which he loaded in a grenade launcher pistol and fired. The projectile described an arc before falling right in the middle of the GOC group. The canister opened with a hissing sound and gas came out of it. Instantly, the operators took their masks, while the thaumaturgists erected their own magical protection.

However, the gas still affected the operators, passing through their pores, who fell on the ground, vomiting blood and their melted parts of their digestive system. Only Caetano was saved, pulled behind the magician's barrier. He struggled and shouted as the men who had placed their trust in him died a painful death.

It was with a disturbing chuckle that the Lieutenant observed his handiwork. The rest of the Insurgency soldiers preferred to ignore him, as they slowed down near Touma who looked stunned. The van's doors were already opened, showing a serious Monika.

"Sup." She said. "Would you be interested in finding those who murdered your friend on the tower?" She asked bluntly.

He only nodded.

"Then come with us. The Foundation will only hide you away in a Site or continue to use you for their own gain, uncaring about what you want. Join me, and you'll be able to do much, much more." She proposed.

She smiled as she saw him hesitate, his eyes drifting to her. She was betting on shock value and emotional distress to convince him. It was low, yes, but it was still the truth. She saw him take one step toward her and she smiled. But then she saw something. And her eyes widened.

"This is far enough." Said a feminine voice.

And the world turned black.

…

Touma woke up, sweating. He looked around, he was in the Foundation plane.

"Are you alright?" Asked Wanda, next to him.

"Yeah, yeah. I think I had a bad dream." He chuckled off.

That had to be a dream right, it was too crazy, too chaotic and incomprehensible to have ever happened. He looked around to see the worried face of Team Gamma, Adams and Iris. But someone was lacking.

"Where is Ansa?" He asked, a feeling of worry washing over him.

Everyone looked uncomfortably at each other, even the masked Specialist.

"You don't... remember?" Asked Adams softly.

After leaving the mall they had been chased by some people. Then followed a confusing battle and then, he remembered himself charging, battling with the Hands. And then, someone hit him by behind.

But there was something missing. And then he remembered. He saw her fighting on the roof. And then, she... she... she fell. His grip over the armrest tightened. And for the rest of the trip, he fell into a mute silence.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Well, that was one hell of a mess." Stated The Administrator.

He had finished watching the video After Action Report of the whole damn battle. Which had been named the Battle of the World Way by the media. It would soon be only remembered as a skirmish between gang members which had degenerated after the police failed to intervene due to contradicting orders.

"I don't understand, Lord." Said someone behind him.

"What don't you understand?"

"I could have killed all of them, my Lord. All of those Insurgency and Coalition lackey. Even those Hand's thug."

He wagged his fingers, a smile on his lip.

"You don't think ahead. What could kill so many people so fast like you?"

"... Something very dangerous?"

"Exactly. People would get suspicious, we have treaties on weapons and skip use. Now if people are unconscious, it can be attributed to simple knock out gas. Which I made sure was disseminated after you left."

"But still. I could have killed them while they were knocked out by the 'gas', Milord."

"Uh, uh. You could have but that would have been taken as an act of gutless assassination rather than fight. We sent a message, that we can kill them without much difficulty, but also that we are honourable and want to avoid further bloodshed." He explained. "And as you may know the Insurgency will lose on the long run. They will be a nuisance like no other but they will lose. If I can force them to the negotiation table then I can and will avoid further damage and spun their pathetic rebellion to our advantage. And if we were to kill those Hand's agents it would bring problems and even better agents. This young man is one of L.S' protégé, a possible successor for Head Librarian, as such I prefer to monitor him and his band of misfits. All of this to our advantage."

"Yours, or the Foundation, Milord?"

"The interest of the Foundation and mine are the same." Said The Administrator, looking at her with narrowed eyes.

"Of course." She huffed.

Seconds passed silently.

"I know you are angry. But do not let your emotions cloud your judgement."

"Maybe your lack thereof is the problem." She stated.

He shrugged.

"At least it gave results. With the death of this sniper, the boy will hate the enemies of the Foundation. That makes me think... He had to have a special bond with her to react this way. What if, oh yes." He began to laugh. "If he was to develop a certain affection with a member of the Foundation, he would remain much more loyal to it, right?"

"I do not like where this is going."

"I will not force it upon him or any person. The Committee would repair it too fast, but if the administration and the security were to let's say, turn a blind eye, something could bloom. Yes."

"My Lord. You really are a pervert." She said.

"It doesn't have to be romantic you know. It could be like between you and him. Well, rather your one-sided sentiment toward him since he has yet to meet you."

"You don't have to remind me that, Monseigneur." She grumbled.

He chuckled.

"I haven't felt that giddy since long, this is taking an interesting turn."

"Speaking of an interesting turn, my Liege, do we know why the UIU stayed out of this?"

The Administrator lost his smile.

"Udall is still trying to get an answer from their West Coast responsible. I don't like their new Director. I don't think she understood that their department is not here to serve the US but us."

"I dare say this is presumptuous, milord." Stated the woman.

He shrugged a second time. And as silence fell, she departed. He took a journal and began to read, puffing on his pipe. Uh, so the International Anti-ISIS Coalition were reinforcing their presence in all Middle East countries where they could? With the blessing of the Arab League? That was bound to unnerve some people.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"I'm deeply sorry but as I told you before, I had my hands tied." Said a man in a suit with a US flag pin.

" _What do you mean by tied hands? You are violating the Accords of Pasadena! Which have been respected since nineteen-o-nine."_ Grumbled the voice of Site 19's Director.

"My superior was vehement when she told me to not intervene. Despite your demand."

" _I want to talk with your Director."_ Threatened the voice.

"Unfortunately, she cannot be joined." Sighed the man. "She is very occupied."

" _This is going nowhere! I will end this call for today, but we will remember. We will remember that your allies' blood that flowed today was on your hand."_

And the voice hung up. The Responsible of the West Coast section of the Unusual Incidents Unit sighed. Things were getting weirder and weirder ever since Hoover had taken power. Had it been his call he would have been? their long-time partner without a doubt. But he guessed that things were about to change if they hadn't already.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah, my first important character death. What an event. Reminds me of the first time I killed someone (This is a joke do not call the police.). When I planned it all I was hesitant to kill off Ansa, but I think it should turn out well. Oh and yeah she's off pairing choices, though I don't think anybody voted for her.
> 
> I hope the entire LA part wasn't too much confusing. It had a lot of people running around, thinking, doing. Might be a bit too much.I also encourga eyou to check out the World Way on google to see what I'm talking about. It's the part just before the airport, before the hotel.


	22. Site-17 And It's Surprises

Touma looked at the ceiling. It was silent. He mulled, lulled by the faint sound of the engine. They were flying, somewhere. He didn't really care. The windows were shut, there was no light. He was supposed to sleep. He couldn't.

The images kept coming. He had seen his fair share of atrocities, but any death still gripped his heart, it hurt him. And this one more than others. If he only he had intervened before. If only. If only his power wasn't that coveted. If only. If only he wasn't here. If only. If only... If only he didn't care.

His eyes widened. No, he couldn't think like that. He couldn't. He had to care. He had to. Who would he be if he did? Who/What would he be?

He looked in his hand. He had kept it. It was a letter. A letter from the late sniper. He looked around it. Nothing stood out, it was white with only a small black seal and his serial number written on it. He had been given this by Adams who suggested he read it in private.

She had looked sorry when she handed it to him. In fact, they all looked sorry. It had been a short but rather important time that they had all spent together.

He looked at the letter. They had each received one. He hesitated to open it. He had feared to open it. He was pathetic, he thought, a bittersweet smile drawn on his face. Afraid of a dead woman's letter. Truly, a laughingstock. Someone who could do nothing but wave his given hand around.

Some thought he was a hero. He had seen some of their faces, even after coming back from L.A. There had been those who maintained neutrality, understandably, they were maybe those he supported the most. There had been those who had shown a certain fear of him, understandable, though it annoyed him. And then, there had been those who had shown... admiration... he mentally spat the word. Not understandable and that irked him to no end.

Who in their right mind would admire him? He was weak. He was unable to do anything without that right hand of his. He hadn't even obtained it through hard work. He was born with it. He had no merit. What he did, anyone else could have done it, and probably better. And they could have saved her.

And worse. Did he care about the enemies his allies killed? Did he shed a tear? No. Did he even think about them? No. Or even his allies' death, the cohorts of dead guards and scientists. Did he pay his respects? No. Fear wormed its way up his soul. What was he becoming? Was he still Touma? Had he ever been him? How far was he straying from his ideals?

He looked at the letter once more before folding it back in his vest's pocket. He would read it later, in a better setting. Yes, a better setting.

He did not sleep.

The turbulences rocked him. How long did the flight last? He could not tell. Someone knocked at the door of his small cabin. He hummed.

He was given a meal by a Foundation personnel who looked at his tired and weary traits with a worried eyed. She advised him to eat and get some rest. He barely heard her and nodded her away. As the thin door separating him from the rest of the plane closed, he looked at the meal.

It was breakfast. He didn't touch it. He didn't feel hungry. The flight would continue for a bit longer as he heard the pilot announce lateness due to bad weather. The claws of fatigue gripped him, but those of guilt too. He spent the last hours in a semi-awakened state, dreaming or rather living nightmares about the latest deceased. He saw things. He heard things. Disappointment. Anger. Coldness. And most of all, indifference.

And the others... The worlds that Othinus created... Oh god... He saw them. He saw them back. He thought he had buried them. All the death, the suffering, the pain. All of it! No. NO. NO!

Sometimes the pain came back. It hurt.

"Hey!"

His tired eyes fluttered open. Did he fell asleep?

"Hey! Are you alright?"

His eyes opened, revealing the face of Aho. Wait, what? He blinked. His sight corrected and he saw Mishimoto, whose face was marred with worry.

"You're sweating and you have bags under your eyes! Do you have a fever? You didn't even eat."

He grimaced at her rapid-fire questions and said and did nothing.

"W-we arrived." She announced. "Answer me, are you alright?"

He forced a smile.

"Y-yeah, I just wasn't hungry, just put on a bit too much cover."

He let out an unconvincing laugh and the psychologist vowed to consult him later.

"Come, there are people waiting for you."

His eyebrows raised. Who would be waiting for him? He got up, stretching his weary legs and arms before following the psychologist.

Outside of the aeroplane were three people. The two first were a man and a woman in their forties, who were dressed in generic black business suit, like most of the higher-ups in the Foundation. The third person, who seemed to lead the group as he was before the two, was a bloated elderly man with a beige overcoat, a brown tweed vest and a purple shirt. His cold blue eyes kept track of Touma as he advanced toward the small group.

Strangely there were no guards to be seen. Looking around, Touma realized he was out in the open. They were on a landing strip, with an air control tower nearby. A light wind blew, caressing the grass while the sky was covered by grey clouds, though a small ray of sun pierced the veil. He could hear the sound of the waves roughly crashing against a cliffside and the incessant cries of the seabirds.

He came face to face with the elderly man, who extended his hand as societal norms wanted. The Imagine Breaker shook it without much liveliness.

"Hello, I am the Site Director, Reynard Kear, pleased to meet you." Greeted the old man. "Behind me are Site Advisors Justin LeBlanc." The man gave a smile, "And Gabrielle Benett." The woman gave a nod.

Touma's brow shot up when he heard the names and functions of the persons before him. Every Site Director and Advisor had been figures in the shadow, not people without escort in broad daylight. He doubted they were the real ones.

"SCP-0000. Pleased to meet you."

"Ah, young man, give me your name, not your number that's depressing" sighed Kear.

"K-kamijou Touma." He mumbled at first, surprised by the man's tone and words.

"That's better." The Director smiled. Come now, let me introduce you to your new, temporary, home."

Kear began to walk toward the tower. From the aircraft also came Team Beta 'Iris' and Gamma. They were approached by the two Advisors who also went toward the tower.

"You look uneasy." Observed Kear. "Something on your mind?"

Touma shrugged.

"Not really. I was just surprised that you would be so straightforward." He half lied.

Kear let a soft smile grace his creased features.

"I see, it isn't really expected of someone such as myself to do this. I am willing to bet that you think I am not the real one." He noted Touma's surprised reaction. "While I am unable to give you rock solid proof, I assure you that I truly am Site-17's Site Director."

"Why would you do such a thing? Isn't it dangerous?" questioned Touma. Clearly, it seemed foolish, it painted a huge target on one's back and gave enemies precious intelligence.

"Do not worry for me, young one" chuckled the old one. "I'm more than capable to defend myself. Do not judge this book by its dusty cover. As for why I am doing this. I want your trust."

Touma was getting tired to look bemused at the man. He was truly a surprise. Such straightforwardness was shocking. The SCP expected more cunning and manipulations to earn his loyalty and trust.

"I don't only want your trust, I want it of every resident here. And how can one trust a masked shadow who doesn't have the balls to come out? I personally wouldn't."

Touma was about to question the unorthodox Director further when he raised his finger to his lips and stopped. Intrigued, he watched Kear tap the ground with his feet. A large circle opened in the airstrip, revealing a dark pit. The ground rumbled and from it came a large tube which opened like an elevator. The interior was similar to the said machine.

Kear stepped in it and invited the young man to do the same. As he entered the spacious lift, the door closed and began its descent. Before he could ask why they were separating themselves from the rest of the group, the Director cut him off.

"They have different places to visit, and I'd like to talk with you. I assume you have questions and so do I. Please refrain from asking questions until we have arrived at my office. It is not far."

The lift touched the ground and the two men got out. They found themselves in a long white hallway where an anonymous guard came to greet them.

"Welcome, sir and welcome back Director" said the man. "Do you desire an escort?"

At first, Touma looked behind to see who the sir might be before awkwardly realizing it was him.

"Do not worry Vincent, I will be alright."

"Very well. Welcome to Site-17, I am Vincent Pearse, I will be the head of your on-site escort duty."

Touma and Pearse shook hand firmly.

"Thank you, sir."

Pearse nodded before stepping aside to let them continue on their way. As they passed through the not so bland corridors of Site-17, Touma observed the difference between this new place and Site-19. A prime example was the frequent colouration of the walls, which often sported at least some strip of vibrant colours. Works of art like paintings, graffities, tags or drawings decorated the usually boring walls. Some of those even looked like child craft.

The guards in another instance were not all anonymous. While most preferred to keep behind tainted visors there were many who had their faces revealed. He also noted the more relaxed manners of the personnel, both military and non-combat.

There were windows pointing to the outside though Kear quickly explained that they weren't real and were projections made possible by a mix of powerful mirrors and slightly anomalous means.

All greeted the two of them. Strangely, they were both treated with respect by the personnel and while some were a bit surprised by the Director's decision to walk alone with a skip, though they didn't know its designation or abilities, none looked at Touma with fear. And he was thankful for that.

They finally reached Kear's office. Which was protected by two guards and two ceiling-mounted turrets. The Director showed its pass, which the guard inspected, slid across two detectors, gave back the card, pressed the Director's palm on a detector and opened the door.

"Harold, come see me at six o'clock."

The guards nodded to people behind them. Touma turned his head to see three persons dressed in long flowing robes retreat.

"Sorry about that. Security measures are important since I expose myself so much. Let's go in."

There was still a hallway to cover before reaching the office. The Director stopped before the door, waited a few seconds, and gave knocks at a very precise place before it opened.

"Aren't you afraid that I'd learn your passwords?" Asked Touma, still surprised by the openness of the man.

He chuckled.

"Do not worry, they change every day, and only those who need to know them, know about them." He assured. "Now. From your very short visit of the Site, what do you think about it?"

"Well..." Began Touma, hesitant. "It is different from the others. A bit, uhm, warmer, I suppose."

The man nodded, apparently satisfied.

"We try our best to make this place the most welcoming possible." He said. "My peers find my methods... unorthodox to say the least but, eh, I have yet to hear a complaint. Now young man, tell me a bit about yourself. And if you wish I'll tell what I can about myself." He proposed. "Want a drink?"

Reaching under his desk, and opening a mini fridge under it, Kears took out a fancy bottle of alcohol before looking back under.

"Rye whiskey, my favourite. I have others, even got a mickey of sake if you want some taste from back home."

"Isn't that illegal?" Asked the boy.

"Illegal this, illegal that, I do what's right, and you look like you need some juice, eh. Isn't going to kill you."

Touma considered the amber liquid for a moment before shrugging. It wouldn't hurt, right? He had already drank in the past, after meeting Birdway. Well, it had ended up with him getting drunk but he doubted Kear would let him drink that much. He nodded toward the bottle and the old man's face lit up with a smile as he placed two glasses on the table before filling up a quarter of each and putting three ice cubes in each.

He sat down and slid him his drink. He raised his, Touma imitating him, before clinking the two.

"To your arrival." Spoke Kear before sipping the beverage.

Touma felt the slightly spicy and dry liquid run down his throat, purging his oesophagus, before setting satisfyingly warm in his stomach. He felt the trouble in his mind calm down a bit and sighed as he put down the drink, eyes closed.

"Well damn, you did look like you needed a drink but no that much." Commented Kear.

The SCP looked at his glasses and found it empty.

"You need to enjoy it, not drink it down that fast." Said Kear in a paternal tone.

"Sorry, it's just... just some troubles." He mumbled.

"Ain't that terrible, eh. Foundation related I imagine?" Asked the Director.

"Yeah."

"I doubt you want to confess to that old man, but what's bugging young one?"

Eyes drifting behind the Director Touma began.

"Well, firstly, I'm not even supposed to be here. This isn't my dimension." He precised.

"Ah, I imagine you left some people behind you'd want to see."

He hummed.

"And responsibilities." Touma added.

He had thought many times about Index, he hoped she was alright, that for the least she didn't starve to death. He hoped Maika had fed her, and that the Anglicans were protecting her. There was also the matter of the two sides, Magic and Science. The two would often butt head and he wondered if the peace was kept during his absence. The best thing he could hope for was that time flowed differently in the two dimensions and that the time in his original dimension flowed much, much, much slower than here. Well, he doubted it. And it still raised that question, that damn question. Would he ever go back?

For now, he could do nothing, he had to wait it out. Wait for an occasion. Wait for the slightest glimmer of hope. Pathetic.

"I see. Feeling guilty, eh? I can relate." He said.

Touma doubted it. Apparently, his feelings found their way up his expression as the man spoke.

"I can assure you I understand. Do you know that I was once also transported to another dimension? Well of course not, eh." Touma looked at the man in surprise. "Yeah, when I was a young and dashing Lieutenant, I was heading my own platoon, tracking an anomalous item, we get it and boom! A vortex. I got sucked up in it."

He paused to drink and refilled Touma's glass, saying a good story was to be accompanied by a good drink.

"So, I get in that vortex and..."

Touma drank, trying this time to savour, though the glass was quickly emptied, and listening to the man with an attentive ear as he explained his three months of errancy among a parallel dimension containing dinosaurs and strange tall blue humanoids.

"... After three months I was about to cry in a corner, covered in blue blood when a team managed to rescue me, apparently you just had to take another part of the item and it was good. Best thing was that only three minutes passed in my world! But still terrifying, eh." Kear shivered.

"Why are you telling me that? Isn't that classified?" Asked the boy.

The Director pouted.

"I tell you an awesome tale and you just ask if I should tell it? Ah younglings those days, eh." He sighed. "But to answer your question it doesn't really matter. I think it's declassified, and if it ain't, it would be our little secret, alright?" He winked.

The corners of Touma's lips twitched upward. Kear was pretty interesting. He eyed the bottle. It was really good. It soothed. He caught Kear's smile, and, embarrassed, forwarded his glass. It was soon filled. A comfortable silence settled, the two enjoying the rye flavoured beverage.

He felt his mind relax, soon followed by his muscles. He felt good. He felt soothed.

"Tell me, Touma, you don't mind if I call you Touma?" The SCP shrugged. "Good. Now, tell me, Touma, this isn't the only thing that's bugging you, eh?"

Touma's eyes drifted to the fake windows. He saw green plains, calm, with only a soft wind to move them. A bird took flight.

"No... No, this... this isn't the only thing. I... Just so many deaths." He took his head between his hand. "I've seen things and lived things... I doubt anyone else saw and lived that. But..." He trailed off, unwilling to continue.

As he spoke Kear's features had softened and it was with a sad fatherly gaze that he looked at Touma. He got up and walked behind him, putting his hand on his shoulder.

"Someone dear, I suppose."

He only got a shaky nod.

"Oh, my poor boy. I'm sorry for your loss." he squeezed the SCP's shoulder. "Foundation or SCP?"

"Foundation." Croaked Touma after a bit of silence.

The Director nodded. In a way it was maybe better that she died, he thought. It may have been more painful. He grimaced. He had seen this many time. It had always been a tragedy. It would seem that feelings in this cursed always came for the worst persons to love. They said the forbidden fruit was the sweetest. He was inclined to agree.

"There, there." He tapped Touma's back. "Take another drink."

He didn't have to repeat himself. A fourth glass was swallowed.

"Why am I telling you that?" Pondered Touma. "I don't even know you... How? Why am I talking to you?"

"Because you can't keep it all bottled up. No matter how tough you are, you are still a kid. Even if you were an adult you couldn't keep it all in. That's not what humans do."

Touma wanted to snap back at the man that he was technically much older than him. But he kept his tongue still.

"You have to speak to us. We are also here for you. Speak to your psychologist. Mishimoto was it? She is here for you. And if you don't want to speak, cry it out young man, trust me it'll help."

He stayed mute.

"You don't have to put up your tough guy act. We all saw right through it. You're not the first to be like that and I doubt you'll be the last. Trust us, and it will be alright."

Trust thought Touma. That was a precious thing to ask. Many asked him his trust. But should he give it?

"I can't force you to say anything, but I encourage you. Let your feelings flow."

Touma stayed mute and motionless. Kears sighed.

"I understand. Now come, you need some rest, let me show you your room."

Touma nodded, getting up, he felt a bit lightheaded. He followed the man as they navigated through Site-17. The aura of sulking around the two of them drawing many eyes.

Finally, they arrived at his containment chamber. It was much larger than before. But he didn't think much of it as he crumbled on the bed.

"Goodnight and use the inter-phone if you need anything. Oh, and sorry, but tomorrow you have some tests." Said Kear before the door closed.

He was now alone. The alcohol flowed in his blood and brain. He talked. Alone. To nothing. To no one. He said things, things he would have never said. Things he wouldn't want anybody to know. He felt something run down his cheek. It was wet. He felt tired. He closed his eyes.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

The Administrator was walking. He looked around, he was in a long hallway of which the end could not be seen. It was barely lit by dim shamrock green lights. Below each light was the photo of someone. Of someone who was. Those who died for the Foundation. Every each one of them. The corridor had no end. He eyed dispassionately moving as a new picture appeared. Too young. They were all too young. Flowers cut in their bloom instead of after their withering.

He sighed. Despite all it weighed. Sometimes he lost himself for hours in that maze. Contemplating faces that died.

"We all are grateful for your sacrifice. May your death create a safer world for all." He sighed.

He heard someone come up behind and he turned to face the newcomer. It was O5-1, dressed in a navy-blue tweed business suit, a smile lifting his spruce moustache and his creases.

"Hello, 1. How are you."

"I am very well Administrator. And you?"

"The same as you. However, I doubt this a visit of courtesy, if we could get to the point please." Said The Administrator bluntly.

"Of course." Answered 1, not bothered by the brusque words. "I am worried about two things. The first being our status with the UIU. How shall we deal with them?"

The Administrator's brow furrowed.

"If you want to do something about it, summon the council and me and see how all of you want it to be dealt with."

1 did not bring any answer and simply shrugged. The leader of the Foundation sighed. Sometimes 1 turned more toward him than the council. He shouldn't be, he remembered, the O5's leader was here to reign my own decisions should he feel them necessary. But he didn't complain, it was better this way. Since when had 1 become so reliant?

"Well, to answer your question I have already deployed a special team to attack their headquarters, they'll be reminded that they rely on us, not the other way around."

"I see, as expected of you. Though I am also worried about the latest proposal. Should we really cross-test SCP-Zero and SCP-3-"

"Yes, it had already been approved. Do not worry, I think it will do the same as with 682." He shrugged.

"But... if it says the truth then this entire universe might-"

The Administrator interrupted 1 with a piercing gaze.

"I have already told you that it is just an impostor. It might be powerful, beyond our imagination, but it is not It."

"But we never know. I think it's too hazardous."

"If it is really what it says it is then it should come out of it unscathed. And if it does disappear, then it is not what it pretends to be, and thus it won't affect the universe."

"Very well, but I also worry for the other test subject. SCP-0000 doesn't seem to be in a…"

1 did not speak for a moment. Finally, he bowed his head and retreated, but not before saying:

"You have been more distant than usual, Administrator, like a ghost."

"I know."

And he departed. The Administrator looked at his back.

"Or are you the distant ones?"

Anyway, he had work to do. He could already feel the headache of the paperwork.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Time to rise, the sun is high in the sky!" Chanted a voice.

Groggily, Touma opened his eyes. What was going on? Rays of light assaulted his pupils. He put his pillow on his face.

"Urgh, five more minutes Index." He pleaded.

"Uh, who are you talking about?"

Thinking of it the voice was male.

"Get out Tsuchimikado." He groaned.

"Did you hit your head last night?"

He removed the pillow to greet a young man with messy brown hair and mismatched eyes. A gleaming ruby was hanging at his neck and he looked at him with curiosity. Bright. The name came. And the memories back. Oh yes, he was in Site-17. Fuck.

He got up, feeling his stiff muscles and parched throat. He wiped his eyes and yawned, stretching.

"Slept well, sleeping beauty? I hope yes, cause we got some work!" Announced Bright. "Change and come with me."

Touma barely nodded. Getting on his feet he dragged himself to the wardrobe, chose one of the many orange suits. He noticed the two outfits he had brought in Los Angeles. It was for those two mere things that she died. What a joke. He should have been less of an egoist.

He sighed deeply. The feelings of before still grasping his heart. In a way, he envied those whose heart had grown cold to the point of ignoring the deaths unfolding around them. He couldn't imagine not having to feel guilty but, in a way, it seemed much more relaxing.

He changed quickly, tried to correct his hair, before departing. He looked at the bed just before exiting. The pillow was wet. He groaned and stepped outside. He was welcomed by the grinning scientist which bowed satirically, before leading the way.

Touma shuffled behind him, rubbing his weary eyes. There was no conversation. Except for Bright's classy remark.

"You look like shit."

Thanks, Touma thought. And you like a psychopath. Or was it sociopath? Hmm, that was to be further explored. Anyway, he noticed as they walked there were more and more people around. Most of them heading in the same direction as them. They didn't seem to mind them, barely glancing, and most looks were directed to Bright, who strutted like a peacock.

Finally, they arrived at the doors of the cafeteria and as Touma opened them, he was greeted by a sight to see. Dozens and dozens of people were sitting at dozens of tables. But most importantly was the fact that some SCPs, who looked inoffensive, were seated with members of the personnel. They were chatting with each other in a casual way.

He blinked.

Wait, what?

Hold up.

Okay, SCPs and Foundation personnel. Eating together. Uh, did he get transported to another world? Was this story turning into a double isekai? Wait what story? He really needed to sleep! Bright! He could ask him what the hell was going on!

"Hey do you-" He turned toward the man only to realize his absence.

He looked forward to see the man waiting in line for food. Touma gazed at the man with dead eyes. Thanks a lot, sociopath! He looked around, was he supposed to eat here? Well, he guessed he was. Fucking Bright.

He headed toward the waiting line for the self. He was stopped dead in his track by an old cantankerous looking woman.

"Your card." She said.

"My what?" Asked Touma, eyebrows raising.

"Your card, young man, the one you need to eat." She seethed.

A guard handed him a card, corroborating her statement. He showed his card to the woman who nodded. She turned her sharp eyes back toward him, holding her hand out. He looked around. No one to help him.

"I-uh-I'm new here. I just arrived yesterday. Nobody gave me anything. Just my researcher here, he is, uh, just there." He pointed at the general direction where Bright had been.

Dammit, the man wasn't there anymore.

"Which one?" She asked.

He was about to launch himself in a desperate explanation when a voice boomed behind him.

"Ah, Dana, leave the kid alone, eh. He is with Bright. Probably forgot to give him the pass."

He turned to see a young man with a brown scruffy beard over a pointed chin with matching tired eyes and slick back fade. He flashed her his pass which she approved before speaking again.

"Rules are rules, I can't let him through."

"C'mon, just for this time. Please don't make me call Kear, he would be pissed."

The woman considered it for a moment before letting the two pass.

"You're the best." He flashed her a smile which she answered with an imperturbable gaze.

Touma's saviour pushed him toward the line before Touma walked once again on his own.

"Excuse me, who are you?"

The man looked at him strangely for one moment before letting out an 'oh' of understanding.

"Oh yeah, I had my face masked. I'm Pearse, Vincent Pearse, remember me?"

Ah yes, the head of his security detail if he remembered right.

"Oh yes, I remember you, when I was with the Director, right?"

"Exactly, now come. So, as you have surely already seen this is the cafeteria. You're probably wondering why the hell are skips and Foundation people eating together? You are, everyone does at one point. Now, that's the Director's initiative and-"

The talk dragged on to the point that Touma only listened with one ear. They went through through the self-service where Touma collected bits and pieces of a meal. Finally, they exited the line and stepped into the cafeteria eating area. The area was filled with tables of various sizes occupied by as much various people.

"...So, seat wherever you want. I've got someone to see."

"Hey, w-" The SCP tried to stop the guard but he was already seated at a table in the company of a lady who seemed pleased by his arrival. Followed a discussion which was clearly between more than friends.

Being a thorough observer of the 'bro-code' Touma decided to leave the man to his own device in peace. He looked around. Great, he knew no one. And he wasn't in the mood to socialize. He headed for the farthest table away.

He felt the look of many persons. He scanned the area and quickly realized most looking at him where the SCPs, most had an intrigued or bothered look on their face or both. Probably his Imagine Breaker he realized. He had to be careful with it. Uh, and nobody told him anything about it. This place was really lax. Even by his own standard. The SCPs for their part were sometimes only recognizable by their bright orange suit with their serial number or had unique features greatly distinguishing them from the rest, such as robotic parts, animal traits, glowing parts and others inhuman modifications.

Just as he continued to walk toward one of the only unoccupied tables someone called him.

"Ah, Zero, looking for somewhere to eat! Come here!"

He looked at the origin of the voice to find Director Kear seated with a security officer and a fish? The SCP, he presumed, was a humanoid dressed into an old interwar suit and a top hat. However, its head was that of an enormous goldfish.

He approached the table with hesitation, but the Director kept gesturing at him to come closer. Finally, he sat at the table, a bit anxious. The goldfish greeted him by tipping using its strangely human hands. The guard nodded, and went back to eating, barely lifting his visor to allow food to enter his mouth.

The atmosphere was, to say the least rather awkward as Touma dropped a quiet 'hello'.

"Cheer up a bit lad, this is a day of celebration." Announced the Director.

"What?" Asked Touma.

"Look around you." Touma took a look, nothing was really abnormal.

There were people talking, eating and walking. Really it was just a cafeteria. The walls of the cafeteria were decorated like the rest of the Site. Ah, now that he observed more thoroughly, he did notice something peculiar. Hearts. As in heart decorations.

He turned toward Kear with a questioning look which he answered with a broad smile.

"It's Valentine's Day!"

Fucking great. Clap, clap, clap. You got me destiny. You got me. What a funny joke. He sighed. Anyway, it wasn't like he was going to profit from it in any case. He doubted any would be interested in this poor Kamijou.

"Very important day here. There, as a friend, take this." Kear took out a small flask and handed it to him. "Just a mickey of sake!"

"Are you allowed to do that." Sighed Touma.

The guard and the fish headed anomaly both shook head but the Director only answered with an innocent look.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe... but, eh, who cares."

Touma shrugged and put the flask in the pocket of his suit.

"Well, I don't have anything to give you back."

Kear laughed it off.

"Like I expected anything. It would be rude of me to do so."

"I guess, but what are you doing here?"

"Well, I don't like eating alone like some kind of pariah. That's no fun, eh."

Touma once again shrugged and decided to just let it go. He guessed that the Foundation wasn't as strict as he believed. He noticed that the fish man and the guard had finished and they got up, leaving the table. Now he was alone with Kear.

He looked at the man, which answered with a gaze of his own.

"Now that we're alone. I wanted to tell you something. As I informed you yesterday you will be cross-tested with another SCP. A bit too soon but I'm not the only one calling the shots here, eh." He revealed in an apologizing tone. "You will have to meet one of our most... difficult residents."

Oh. Great.

"Now it isn't aggressive. Just a tad... strange. Well, you'll see what I mean when you meet it. To be honest, whatever happens, there will be important. That's all."

The two fell silent. Touma began to feel anxious. Who wouldn't, it really seemed that whatever he was about to meet was dangerous in its own way. At least Kear was honest enough to admit it. Uh, maybe he was trustworthy.

"Oh, kid, you're here. Where have you been, I have been looking everywhere."

He turned to see Bright and Mishimoto. Mishimoto seemed uncomfortable while Bright sported his usual grin.

"Eating with the Director, eh, you sure know how to make friends." Chuckled Bright. "Finish your breakfast, then follow us, please." He added the last word after a slight shove from Mishimoto.

He quickly swallowed the pancakes before getting up and departing but not before bidding his goodbye to Kear who answered with 'good luck'.

As they passed through the corridors, Bright leading them from a certain distance Mishimoto engaged the conversation.

"You look a bit better than yesterday. But are you alright?" She asked, a concerned look on her face.

He did not answer at first, prompting more concern.

"Don't worry. It's just..."

It was just what? What could he say? Maybe he should tell the truth. Maybe.

"...Just, An- Aho's death had... preoccupied me." He stated.

"I see. But you don't have to feel responsible. This isn't your fault. It's ours."

"No." He shook his head. "I'm the one who wanted to go outside. I'm the one who brought that entire mess. All because of me." He looked saddened at the ground while keeping his pace.

"I-" She couldn't say anything.

He was right. Had he not gone out nothing would have happened. Aho wouldn't be dead. Even those enemies wouldn't. Maybe... it was also her fault. She was the one who pressured for such a thing at the Ethics Committee. Speaking of them! She hadn't received any notification for a vote considering the cross-testing of Touma. Hmm, well, she didn't even know with which SCP he would be tested with. It was probably unimportant.

Touma didn't further the conversation. The brutal shutdown of Mishimoto only confirmed his thoughts. He was at fault. He was the cause of her death. Of their death. He didn't have the time to dwell further in his dark thoughts when Bright called him.

"We're here, Zero, now whatever happens... Try not to... I don't know, fuck up? Yeah, try not to fuck up!"

"Wait, wh-" He didn't have the time to continue his question when he was shoved inside an entrance.

Touma groaned but resigned himself to his task as the door closed. He turned behind, the other door was closed. He looked up and saw a camera pointed at him as well as a speaker. He waited for half a minute before the speaker spat.

" _Tell me if you're ready."_ Came Bright's voice.

"Ready. Can we get this over with?" Growled Touma.

" _Oh, calm down cowboy, opening the door right now."_

Touma bit back an acid answer as the door opened. He stepped into the room. It was richly decorated in a Victorian style. A large oak desk with many engravings laid in the centre, behind it was a throne or a parlour chair of the same material with red velvet cushions. A spacious fireplace crackled slowly, drawing entrancing flames gently licking the cobblestone wall. On the walls, covered with a red and green flowery on a white background wallpaper, hung many oil paintings representing gorgeous landscapes and as equally beautiful persons.

There was no one. He looked around. Nothing happened. He blinked. He saw that the chair had slightly tilted to the left. He took a few steps backwards. His pulse quickened, his pupil grew just like an awful sensation in both his heart and arm. His arm twitched. Like something was trying to get out. Beads of sweat rolled down his temples as he pressed on his arm, futilely trying to hold off the Thing.

It was wrong! ALL WRONG!

"Let me out!" He shouted. "LET ME OUT!" He shouted.

Nothing. No. No NO!

He drummed on the door, his eyes darting everywhere as he felt the being in his arm stir. He had to get out. Finally, the door opened. He fell on the ground as he had rested his weight on it. He messily crawled back, distancing himself from the room as quick as he could. Finally, the door to the room closed and the one to the corridor opened. He rocketed out of it, sweating, his heartbeat pounding.

"Hey, hey, hey. Calm down! Calm down!" Called a voice.

He slumped on the wall, trying to regulate his breathing pattern. What the hell? What the hell was in there? He felt a hand land on his shoulder and turned his panicked gaze to a concerned Pearse.

"Fuck mate, what happened in there? When you were in there the whole Site went to shit, shaking and objects teleporting everywhere! You came out screaming!"

It did? Perhaps. He gulped, trying to calm his wild heartbeat.

"Hey! Answer me! Are you alright?"

He gave a series of nods to Pearse who relaxed his grip before another voice rang.

"Woah, pretty crazy. What did you see? The end of the universe."

The SCP turned his head to see a carefree Bright, whose attitude could be found in its tone, strut toward him.

"What the hell was in there?" Asked Touma with a steely tone.

"Hmmm." Bright put his index on his lip and his eyes drifted in a pondering look. "Well... I don't think I'm allowed to tell you."

"Tch. I don't care about that! I want to know what the fuck was this... Thing!" He blurted out.

"Woah, woah, hold your horses' kid. Settle down."

"Settle down? The only thing I am going to do is settle up-"

"That doesn't make any sense." Observed the doctor.

"Listen, you..." Touma got up and jabbed his finger at Brights' chest, who took his medallion out of the finger's way, something Touma noticed. "I'm not going in any of your crazy containment chambers if I don't know what's going to happen."

The carefree man took a few steps back, an apologetic look on his face.

"Well, I can't do anything on my own about that. The only thing I can say is that it is a powerful reality bender." He revealed.

Touma humphed before sighing. He guessed that was the most he could learn from the whole thing. He turned his sight to the door, or rather the sign next to it. The number 343 was marked upon it, with the notes, Reality Bender, telepathic, humanoid, ectoentropic and safe.

He had no idea of what ectoentropic meant but the safe mention did put him at ease. It wasn't like physically dangerous was marked on the thing, right? And he could cancel both telepath and benders, right?

"But, did you see it?" Asked Bright.

"Hmm?"

"343, did you see it?" Insisted Bright.

"No... there was no one in there." Answered Touma, shaking his head.

"I see." Hummed Bright. "Thank you for your time. You may get back to your room. Pierce escort him." He ordered.

"It's Pearse!" Said the man as he departed with Touma and five other guards.

Bright dismissed it with a humming before heading back to the observation bay. When he entered, he was surprised to see SCP-343 standing in the room. It had taken the form of an ageless man, possessing a full beard reaching to its chest, wearing a white toga. Its eyes, the colour of steel and usually serene, strangely held both anger and apprehension.

"What have you brought into my quarters?" It asked, its calm and commanding tone contradicting the turmoil its pupil held.

The other scientists, Mobius, Mishimoto and Gardiner, the new member of staff, stayed silent and looked down, apparently shaken by the man's psychic pressure as well as the sheer power the being had. The only ones in the room conserving their composures were him and Kear. The old director seemed to be used to those kinds of confrontations or had received enough training to resist such tricks.

Bright, on the other hand, was still a little nervous but the many situations he found himself in allowed him to keep his cool. He looked at 343 before drifting his eyes back to Kear. A silent conversation was made and the two men came to an agreement.

"Well, my dear 343." Began Kear. "I wanted to introduce you to one of the Foundation's latest acquisition. SCP-0000 or Touma Kamijou also called the Imagine Breaker."

The Director smirked as he saw the being's reaction. One of shock.

"Do you know him?"

343 put the full intensity of his focus on the Director's form. This one kept his smile though he felt his heart pound as cortisol and adrenaline were deployed as the flight or fight instinct ingrained in each human kicked in. Everyone in the room felt small.

"I know what it is." It spoke clearly and slowly. "It shouldn't be here."

"What do you mean by that?" Asked Bright.

"You must know it isn't native of this dimension?"

Everyone around the room nodded.

"The thing, this human hold. It shouldn't be here."

"So, Kamijou is only the receptacle for the 'Imagine Breaker'." Stated Mishimoto.

"It is."

Kear nodded, turning his thumbs.

"Following the rules. Then is there an Imagine Breaker here? One native."

Silence reigned.

"Yes and no."

"Please answer the question clearly." Demanded Kear.

The being considered the old man for a minute before opening its lips. Everyone was hanging on them.

"There was, and now it is and isn't. Goodbye."

And without further ado the being hovered backwards went through the wall and sat in its Victorian chair, the staff uttering their own farewell.

After departing, as Kear entered his office he sat at his desk and wrote. Researches were to be launched.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

She sat in her room, waiting for anything to happen. It was boring down there. There was nothing to do. She sighed, crossed her legs for the thousandth time and swore revenge on those humans for the millionth one.

She was getting hungry. To her relief, the food soon came. From the ceiling came a platform descending to the ground. She headed toward it, licking her lips. She opened the recipient to reveal a bloody fresh liver.

She wasted no time, tearing apart the flesh with her sharp nails and shredding it with her teeth. She soon swallowed the piece of meat, licking the blood and gore from her finger. Aaaah! She wanted more. But it was useless, the platform began to ascend once again, a hole in the ceiling opening. Just as the platform was about to enter the hole the room shook. She was sent around, banging on the walls like a ragdoll. Things appeared in her room. Small objects for most but she swore she saw an animal. At one point it seemed she was floating in the air before everything settled down calmly.

She rubbed her pained head, but she was alright, she'd maybe have a bruise but that would be all. She looked at the ceiling and saw that the platform had stopped its ascensions, but more importantly that the hole was opened. She smiled. Oh, what a perfect occasion! Maybe she could have her fun, or at least escape this damned place and have her revenge.

She placed herself against the wall, ran and jumped with her momentum. Her smooth marbled skin turned to a white, blue and black plumage. Her long and silky raven hair twisted into a night coloured flat crest while her small rosy lips turned into a pointy beak. Long and slender legs turned into those of a bird with small claws. Finally, the long fluffy orange tail jutting from her back transformed into two wings and a bird's tail of the same colour.

The small bird flew through the hole, batting its wings in the air with all its strength. The light from the other side became brighter and closer. And finally, she reached the end of it. As she touched the ground on the other side, she was alerted by barking and growling. All around her were dozens and dozens of ferocious looking dogs.

In full alert she flew upward, trying to distance herself from the terrifying hounds. Dogs! DOGS! Those damn animals! She couldn't help but run whenever she saw one. They struck fear in her heart to the very core. All the doors were closed and the room was filled with the antagonistic beasts. She had to go back to her chamber or she would end up exhausted because of the continuous flight and would be devoured by a horde of filthy canine. From the corner of her vision, she saw something. There was an air vent whose grid had fallen on the ground.

Without any hesitation, she headed toward it, and entered the vent, her form allowing her to squeeze through it. For practicality sake she transformed into a mouse to better navigate through the maze, nine orange tails sprouting from her last vertebrae.

She stopped after a good two minutes of running through the ventilation. Where should she go? She looked around, she was at an intersection. She pondered the question for a while before deciding that this needed some extra-normal help. She let her mind slip slowly from her earthly shell, seeking something, anything.

Mindless conversations and boring humans. Some interesting anomalies but a good part of them were snitches and collaborators. The others were dangerous to approach or presented little interest. Until, finally the tendril of her spirit reached something, here but empty. She frowned internally, what was that?

She pushed her consciousness toward the object, trying to invade its spirit and not only what surrounded him, only to have it blocked by something. And then, she saw it. A dragon. She let out a mouse-ish yelp, a squeak, as terror took control of her mind. She soon managed to regulate it. But for a second or two, she feared to have a heart attack. What the hell was this? She had to know.

Her curiosity driving her she sped toward the direction of the empty-but-there object. She ended up in front of a second grid barring her entry into the room holding what she sought. She lightly pushed it, and it fell on the ground, presumably weakened because of the earthquake. Well, anomalous earthquake.

"Hmm, what's that?"

She heard a voice below and stuck out her rodent head to look at the speaker. He was a young man, in his late teens, with spiky black hair and a bright orange suit. He didn't look like anything special, if well built. He was Kamijou Touma.

She observed him, in a way she was disappointed by the normalcy he represented. He picked up the grid on the ground and looked above. She retracted her head before he could sport her. He quickly abandoned his search, attributing the falling grid to the earlier accident.

He didn't reach for the inter-phone, not in the mood to deal with Pearse, he'd prefer to signal it later. He laid on his bed, and from the side of it, took the post mortem envelope. He still hesitated to open it.

It was just a letter dammit! He sighed. He was tired, he would read it later.

"Ara ara." Came a voice behind him.

Ara ara?

"This is how you Japanese say, right?"

Hmmm. So, there was someone behind him. Last time he checked there was no one in his room, neither was there any opened entrance. He slowly turned his head to face the origin of the words. The more he looked at the intruder the more his eyes widened.

Clad in a hanbok, composed of a white top and a red robe with flowery patterns was a woman of great beauty. Her Asian traits, Korean he presumed, were natural, not uplifted by artificial make-up, just like the free-flowing black cascade that was her hair. Her fresh traits were soft but vibrant in colour with rosy lips and warm and gentle yellow eyes who seemed to glow dimly and imprint with demureness. However, the most distinguishing traits she had were the two orange furred ears poking from her head, as well as the nine orange white tipped tails jutting from behind her, which gently swayed like charmed snakes.

"Sorry to intrude on you, very sorry." She said meekly, putting her long falling sleeves in front of her face as if to hide her embarrassment.

"Not a problem." Muttered Touma while getting up and approaching her, still surprised by the mysterious apparition. "Just... who are you?"

"I am... I am...Chung-Cha." She lied after hesitating.

Ironic, she thought. Hook!

"I see... well Chung-Cha-san, you seem lost, do you want me to call the guards?" He asked.

"No, please don't." She muttered. "They are mean with me." She added under Touma's questioning look. Line!

"Alright, but they will be back soon." He announced.

She nodded with a worried glance.

"I know, but can I stay here a bit please?" She asked, with round and adorable eyes.

Despite his more than sour mood the young boy couldn't help but think one word. Cute. She smirked behind her long sleeve. And sinker!

He was in. She knew it before he uttered anything, even without looking at him she could sense the psionic emission of feelings and sentiments. It was like a very light perfume but she had expert nostrils which could still sense the fragrance and its components.

Right now, the young man exhaled sadness, concern and a bit of self-loathing, as well as after her words a certain sense of care. All in all, an easy prey to toy with. She would have some fun and afterwards... she was feeling a bit gourmande.

"Thank you." She meekly said, approaching him.

He stepped back until he found himself on the edge of his bed. She sat on it, comfortably laying her tails around.

Touma observed them with a certain interest and couldn't help but think, man, I hope she won't put hair all over it. Now, the other thing he wondered about her was, what was she?

"Say, are you a kit-"

Thankfully for him, he stopped his sentence as she laid her eyes on his. Her eyes had turned from shy and soft to two burning pits of molten gold, which pierced his soul. Her smile, once innocent turned sinister and the words coming from her mouth were as cold as the Arctic.

"Please refrain from confusing me like these dull creatures, please. I am a Kumiho."

"S-s-sorry." He apologised, putting his hand in front of him and closing his eyes as if fearing her wrath.

"Ara ara, I seem to have lost my temper, please forgive me, it was unbecoming of me." She said, her voice and eyes taking back their softness.

"Uh, well, it was my fault, sorry about that." He admitted.

A Kumiho, uh. He had heard about them, they were in a way like the Kitsune of Japan. Though they had a peculiarity... what was it? Academy City didn't really teach its student about traditional folklore anyway. Bah, it was probably unimportant.

He sat on the bed and for a moment the conversation stayed at that point, he wasn't very comfortable with what kind of subject to bring on the table. As such he was silent for a while until the Kumiho decided to bring up a sensitive one.

"Say, what is that letter?"

He realized he had the left Ansa's letter on his bed, in full display, he took it and slid it in one of his pockets.

"Nothing."

"Is it?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"I see."

Silence.

"And what is that?"

He turned his eyes and noticed the flask of sake which laid on the ground. He grabbed it to hide it, but 'Chung-Cha' had already identified the liquid in it. She approached him, made her doe eyes or rather fox eyes and said.

"Drinking it would help."

Help, help what? Was Kamijou's reaction. However, he soon understood what she meant. She smiled gently, hiding a smirk, making him drink a bit would be better, he would be more compliant and receptive to her psionic influence.

Indeed, she was already influencing him with her abilities, though she tried to keep it low in case the dragon she saw came back. She had no idea under what circumstances it reacted.

He looked at it, and for some reasons, both natural and unnatural felt compelled to drink. He also recalled yesterday's drinking session with Kear. It had been soothing. He uncapped it and hesitantly at first, brought the neck of it to his mouth before lifting the bottom. The rice alcohol burned in a satisfying way but he didn't see the equally satisfied look of the Kumiho.

And he drank. And he drank. And he drank.

He didn't drink it all, however, he still drained three-quarters of it. He felt a hand on his shoulder and stopped his absorption of the liquid, which he deemed very necessary. He looked at the Kumiho who had an embarrassed look on her features.

"There, there, don't drink it all, it is quite strong."

If he continued, she feared he would fall asleep, not funny!

He nodded and put the bottle on the ground, putting the cap back. He closed his eyes, feeling a bit woozy. Uh, maybe shouldn't have drank it so fast. He sighed as the beverage's influence started to take effect. When the brain is intoxicated by alcohol it affects its capacity to judge how to handle situations as well as unbalancing emotions, leading to, let's be honest, interesting, whether good or bad, situations.

With a deft movement, the Kumiho retrieved the letter from Touma's pocket and brought it near her eyes.

"Zero, zero, zero, zero? Is that your number?" She asked.

"Hey, give me that!" He reaped the object from her hands, now putting it inside his suit.

"I'm sorry." She yelped covering her face with her sleeves. "I was just so curious as to what could be so dear to you."

"It's from a friend... It's her last words... I'd like to respect her memory." He stated, eyes to the ground.

"Oh, I'm very sorry for your loss." Muttered 'Chung-Cha'.

For once her words were genuine. She was still going to toy with that human but it was still sad for someone to lose a close one. Even if it helped her. It was too easy.

"Don't be... I should be." He whispered the last part under his breath.

However, fox ears being superior to human ears managed to pick up those last words.

"Why would you say that?" She asked, earnestly.

"I..."

No why would he say that? Was he really going to confess his troubles to someone he barely knew? He looked at her expecting air. Fuck it. Didn't Kear say it would eat him? Well, he had a perfect candidate. Someone he would probably never cross again and who seemed reserved enough to keep a secret.

"I fucked up. And she got killed because of it."

"Oh."

The Kumiho considered the human with a soft look. Poor little thing. Considering he used 'she' and the tone he used, it was safe to someone he felt romantically attached to her.

"How did that happen?" She said, getting closer to him and speaking in the tone of a confidante.

"It was... it was during a sortie. A bit after a mission. The Foundation uses me 'cause of my power. Long story." He said, after receiving a quizzing look. "I requested an out because I was getting sick of staying indoors or running around to do their bidding. And then...

She felt a bit of pity. He was as much as a victim as her. Maybe more since he probably wasn't tearing out livers out of people. He was someone who was caged, just like her.

"And then... she got killed by... some kind of teleporting woman, I guess."

Hmm, she guessed she could try to get in the breach.

"Did you love her?"

Neither did he panic, got flustered or denied he just stared forward.

"Maybe. I don't know." He finally answered after some thinking.

He did, thought the nine tailed fox. She would continue on this trail.

"You shouldn't feel guilty."

"I'm a-"

"No. You are not at fault." She interrupted him.

His eyes widened, how did she know what he was about to say.

"I understand you, between SCPs, and between grievers. But you are not at fault. Who is? Them."

"Them, who?" He asked.

"Those who killed her, or rather that woman, they are at fault."

"M-"

"No, they are at fault, and the Foundation too. You are the victim here. You shouldn't feel guilty. You should feel wrathful!"

She insisted on the last sentence, jabbing her finger at his chest.

"Sorrow or guilt is useless. Its wrath and anger that will allow you to honour your friend's memory."

She spoke passionately. She put her hand on her mouth. She may have let out some of her true feelings there too. However, this had struck Touma.

"I-I... I don't know."

"You don't have to know. You have to act. Act against the people who hurt those who you care for. Those who put them in danger."

She put her hand on his chest.

"I-I guess there is some sense to what you are saying."

Oh, maybe she could... maybe she could revise her plans and use him against the Foundation! How devilish. But first.

"I'm glad you understand." She said with a smile.

A sad of his own slowly etched itself.

"I just want to go home." He muttered, defeated.

"Oh, poor you." She hugged him, curling up his head between her bosom.

He didn't even react, absorbed too much in his dark mulling and nostalgia about better days in his world. Her arm snaked around him, drawing him tighter. That was until he remarked this. He tried to weasel out of the grip but she wouldn't let him go.

"Chung-san, you're-"

"Shhh. Take it easy." She whispered into his ear.

He shivered as the hot breath caressed his inner ear. She took a good look at him. He wasn't so bad. Pretty good she would even admit. Maybe she could have another kind of fun with him, it would help her reach her goal, and it had been so long since her last private contact. She decided to act.

Pushing him lightly against the bed, she ignored his weak struggle. Very weak.

"Don't worry, I'll help you. Like no one else here can." She murmured huskily into his ear.

He found himself back against the mattress. He admired her. He hadn't remarked but she possessed a stunning physique, one who could rival with the likes of Othinus. He felt his face redden as she straddled him, the look on her face completely different from her past demure self, instead replaced by a confident and mature expression.

She drew closer to him, putting once again her mouth near his ear and she whispered. She whispered what she would do with him. She whispered things. Poor Touma was red like a volcano, and his heart was pounding like an earthquake. And she continued. He shivered and trembled under her words, enchanted by each syllable she uttered.

She got back straight, licking her lips.

"Ara ara, I'm lucky to get to you first, or someone would have snatched you. You're so cute!" She purred.

"J-just... don't touch my right hand." He said, looking away.

He was, to be honest; subjugated, and without the will to refuse what she had proposed or rather imposed in her sensual whispers. He felt like he needed it, to fill the dark thoughts in his heart with pleasure.

She nodded to his instruction and refrained herself to ask any questions as to not kill the mood.

She leaned ever closer, her mouth opening slightly, and his own in response. He felt her press more and more of her body against him. Her tails formed a protective cocoon around the two, protecting them from the harshness of the world. She was barely centimetres away from him, their heavy breathing grazed against each other's skin like waved of passion crashing against the rocks. She used her hand to bring down the zipper, while his left one snaked around the small of her back, drawing her desired body closer and closer.

They looked at each other one last time. They both wanted it. Needed it.

Their lips grazed, burning like their desires.

Just a bit closer!

"Hey, mate, sorry to bo-theeeer you?"

They froze. The door has opened to let in Pearse who was looking at the scenery, crystallized. Nobody moved.

Until the guards posted outside, intrigued by the head of the security detail's sudden stop looked inside.

"ON THE GROUND 953! ON THE FUCKING GROUND! HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!"

The orders came quickly, fused around, loudly. 953 looked at the man, who pointed syringe rifles. She frowned and was about to unleash her psionic power when Pearse's voice came.

"It's useless 953. Doesn't work with us, you'll be down before you could do anything."

She disengaged herself from Touma, kneeled on the ground and put her hands in the air.

"Are you alright?" Asked one of the guards at Touma who answered with a meek and flushed nod.

"Glad we got there. She was going to fucking eat you!"

"Oh yeah, I was going to swallow him whole." She winked.

Touma reddened while the guard shouted.

"Shut up! I'm going to cuff you now. Stay tranquil or I'll send you dreaming."

She sighed and let the man cuff her hands with iron shackles. Without wasting time, he began to drag her toward the exit but she had something to say.

"Say, Touma." She began, catching his attention. "I hope we'll see each other again. If you're not taken, or even if you are."

And then she was dragged out, Touma uttering a lame 'goodbye'.

"Gosh, I don't know if I have to be sad or glad." Said Pearse.

"What do you mean?" Asked Touma.

"Well, on one hand, you were about to get it on with a beauty. Congratulations! But on the other hand, you were about to get your liver eaten out of you by this beauty."

"What?!"

"Yeah, she does that! Pretty fucked up, uh? She killed lot and lot of men, even our own by seducing them and then eating them, mid sex."

"Oh."

"Yup, sorry to tell you this lad. We were looking for her since we noticed she wasn't in her containment. Well, I gotta go. Oh, hey what's that?" Exclaimed Pearse, picking up the fallen grid.

"Ah, she must have gone through there." He realized, looking at the vent.

"Have you seen her?" Asked Touma, surprised.

"Well, she can become nearly any animals or even human. She's a shapeshifter. Truth to be told, you were going to shag a fox."

"..."

"Well, not really a fox. Still a kumiho... but you know what I mean. Well, I gotta go. See ya later and for Christ's sake or yours, call us if someone that shouldn't be in your room, is. Seems she wants to see you again, if she ever does, call us immediately."

And with that, he left the room.

Now once again alone, Touma lied in his bed, he sighed a tired sigh. The last days had been an emotional roller-coaster of which he wasn't fond.

He was about to nap it off when he heard a voice. He got up and looked around for any more intruder.

"Who is there?"

" _It's me, Chung-cha, I'm talking through a telepathic link."_

"Oh, I see, still want to play with your food? Chung-cha?" He questioned sarcastically.

" _So_ _,_ _they told you... I don't think you'll ever trust me again but let me tell you this I would have gone to the end, had that Pearse not interrupted our little session."_

"Oh, so you were going to eat me afterwards? How nice."

" _No. I wouldn't have. I wanted at first, mind you. I changed my mind and wanted to vent some frustration out. It's lonely down there."_

"..."

" _You know, I can always try to visit you, and I could show you how much I'm serious."_ Despite the disembodiment of the voice, he would still hear the teasing tone.

"Please don't speak to me again. I cannot trust you."

He swore he heard her pout before she spoke one last time.

" _No promises. I don't want to come again and find out some other girl took you. Or hmmm, that could be fun."_ She said with a mental giggle.

"As if."

" _I wouldn't be so pessimist. I read some persons minds and-"_

"Don't read people's mind, it isn't polite." He scolded her.

Whatever did she mean by that?

" _Ye ye. Well, I wish you goodbye. Looking forward to our next talk"_

And like this, the connection was cut. Touma sighed. As if anyone was interested in him. But as he closed his eyes, he could still feel her lingering presence, most particularly on his lips, where he could still feel the ghost of their grazing. He wouldn't admit it but he wished they went a bit further... if she was telling the truth.

As he turned a bit, he felt something poke his rib. Ah yes. He took out the dreaded envelope. He stared at it for a few moments before putting it on the nightstand. It would be for later. Sometime.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Woke up. Cracked neck. Got up. Checked appearance in the mirror. Brown business suit. Readjusted the olive tie. Put the black Panama with the white bond. Took the suitcase. Checked the hour. All good.

Stepped outside. Melt in the crowd. Things had to be done. And soon there was nobody but the crowd.

* * *


	23. Valentine's Day and How it Went

_**Valentine** _ _**'** _ _**s Day had been rather disappointing for Touma, but what about the other characters?** _

"Yeah yeah, what about us?" Asked L.S.

Shut up you gender ambiguous mysterious robed archetype, you'll attract too much attention. You have nobody to enjoy Valentine's Day with anyway.

And with this L.S departed, sulking.

As she arrived in the Wanderer's Library, he decided to see how her protégé was doing, and after twisting his staff she disappeared in a show of smoke. The Head Librarian found herself in the headquarters of the Los Angeles chapter.

Putting on his tweed cap, which he had previously retaken from G.L, the fourth wall breaking being began to stalk through the place, weaving undetected through the messy rooms and bypassing a sleeping Cutter.

"...volution!"

She heard nearby voices arguing and approached the source to determine the arguers and the source of their dispute.

"No, I tell you that a centralised state economy cannot work!" Advanced Goldman.

"Well, without authoritarian rule the capitalists would invade!" Countered Sten.

"You're worse than capitalists!"

"By Marx when the revolution comes, I will send you to the fucking gulag you-"

L.S shook his head, chuckled quietly, and decided to bypass the two arguing, though they did sound like an old couple. An old couple on the verge of murdering each other but a couple, nonetheless. She continued her way through the headquarters, finally climbing up the stairs or rather gliding over them to the mezzanine.

Continuing his search, L.S opened the door of the numerous chambers, trying to find G.L. Finally, the fifth chamber was the good one. As she opened it, she was greeted by the sight of his protégé and the LA chapter-mistress.

The two were, silently, stitching and healing each other's wound. The two had come back from burying their deceased comrade, Felin. They hadn't expected to lose one of their own so soon. They would have to be more careful in the future.

No, one may say that treating a wounded comrade might be romantic but here the sourness of the mood was too much for anything else. However, L.S hadn't only come to spy on her minions, she removed her cap, prompting the two operatives to drop their occupation with a surprised sound and to focus their attention on her.

"Hi there." Greeted the Head Librarian with a wave of his hand.

"Fuck, stop giving us poor mortals heart attack please." Groaned G.L

"Yo L.S, been a while." Was K.B's answer.

"Yes, since your induction, three years ago was it?"

"That's right."

"Well, you seem to have made good use of your position." Observed L.S

"Thank you, Head Librarian."

The green-robed figure hummed, before tapping her golden baton on the ground. A lavish baroque chair with emerald cushions appeared behind her and he sat on it.

"Now, tell me, how went your last engagement to retrieve the Imagine Breaker?" She questioned.

The two subordinates looked at each other before their eyes settled on the black void that acted as L.S' face.

"Well..." Began G.L. "It began alright, I guess. We were the closest to the target, they didn't have thaumaturgist to help them, and we could hold against the GOC."

"Then, what went wrong?"

"It's my fault. I wanted to get those Coalition bastards with my portal but one of them traitors threw some kind of magic explosive. Our barrier crumbled and Felin... Felin... For fuck's sake."

G.L wrapped his arm around his comrade's shoulder, a sorry expression on his face.

"Tried to get the bitch who shot him. She was on a roof. Managed to teleport there but, she fucking stabbed me a-"

"Really, someone as slippery as you?"

"Yeah, I was too predictable, teleported behind her but she already knew. Would have died if G.L hadn't blasted her." She pointed the man with her thumb.

"Yeah, but this is where the problem is. The Imagine Breaker got mad. Tried to stop him but he... punched off? Yeah, punched and slapped off my spells. Then he beat the shit out of us, to be honest, the only time I got trashed that much was when I met you. And then we teleported back to base." He sighed, recalling his painful encounter with the Head Librarian.

"Eh? Seriously, man? Well, that change for your boring fight." Chuckled the leader of the Serpent's Hand. "I mean most of your fights are just staying behind your barrier, then slowly leeching your enemy by attrition. It's soooo boring! You have an awesome sun-based power and you barely use it!"

"I can get blind because of this shit." Deadpanned G.L.

"Ah, true." Said L.S, hitting her open palm with her fist.

"Well, anyway, use the time you have to rest, mourn and train. The Imagine Breaker isn't in this region anymore." Revealed the Head Librarian. "And no, I do not know where he is at the moment. Oh and also."

Despite being unable to see her face the two Hand agents felt her look change to a serious one.

"Our great enemies are moving, there has been a recent outbreak from the Scarlet King. The Foundation assured me they would take care of it as they did before, with the help of the Church. I want you to concentrate your search and intelligence on the great enemies."

"The Church, the Foundation and the Initiative are on board but what about the Coalition?" Asked K.B.

The Head Librarian was pensive for a moment before sighing.

"Who knows? Al Fine is distant those days. She's hanging out too much with those fascists and populists to really care about the big supernatural picture. She's more concerned with getting bases from NATO and getting government support than anything else."

"Eh, like we need those Coalition bastards." Scoffed K.B.

"In the end, they'll just stab us in the back" Added G.L.

"Maybe, but we have to work as a united front against this unholy alliance." Said L.S "Or we will all die."

There was a pregnant pause where everyone considered the implications of the uncooperative Global Occult Coalition.

"Bah, it's not the time to think about that. I have to go now, don't hesitate to visit the Library at your leisure." Said L.S

And after a round of goodbyes, the robed leader disappeared in a show of smoke, leaving the two thaumaturgists alone.

"I don't like where the world is going..." Sighed K.B.

"At least we... we can count on each other, can't we?" Said G.L

There was a small pause.

"Of course."

Their hands joined.

"Hey, at least we have a new chair!"

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Are you sure you are alright?"

Monika sighed as Orion kept asking her about her state.

"Yes, I'm alright. I just don't know what happened in there."

And to be honest she had absolutely no idea what went down after she got knocked. She had woken up, in the back of the Insurgency's van with a simple visit card with a Foundation sigil and a winking smiley. Analyses had found traces of advanced knock out gas, even able to get through gasmasks straight into their respiratory systems. Nothing had been done to them, they weren't hurt, bugged, enchanted, reprogrammed or anything, prompting several questions. The first being the motives of the Foundation and the second their reliability.

She frowned, reminiscing of that strange moment. She was about to get Touma on their side when the gas came. But there was something she told no one. She swore she had heard a song. An opera song. She shook her head. Fantasies from a confused state.

As of now, she feared that Team Cinereous and she would be put on the side-lines. She was on a call with Orion to determine whether she and her team would be allowed to continue. The man was currently more concerned with her present well-being than her future in the Insurgency.

"Or well, if you really cared about how I am you could have visited me." She finally lashed out.

She hadn't seen the masked mentor in the two days she had spent doing scans and other tests.

There was a long lull in the now heated conversation. Monika grimaced as she realized her words may have gone too far, but there was no coming back now. She was pretty much doomed anyway.

"I am sorry about that." Apologized Orion to her shock. "I was meeting with the Alpha Group to ensure that you could continue your work as an agent. I am very sorry that I couldn't come."

She didn't utter a word as her prejudices fell apart.

"Monika?" He called as she did not answer.

"Oh, I... I am sorry for shouting, sir." She apologised.

Behind his mask, Orion smiled.

"Don't do it again." He said firmly, as his position as leader pushing him. "I managed to make sure that you could continue your work unhindered."

"I see, thank you, sir. I-"

She was about to delve deeper in her gratitude as well as inquiring about his wellbeing while also confiding her own worries when the leader cut her off.

"Well, I have work to do. Farewell agent, I expect your report by tomorrow."

And before she could say anything the line was cut.

Orion stretched his muscle and got back to work. He had been given two new arduous tasks by the Alpha Group in exchange for the assurance that she could continue her work. He knew she would be devastated if her career was stopped in its bloom. He also now had to contend with an observer from the Group. It immensely puts sticks in his plans. And he couldn't just kill the observer. He knew the Group would take her death as an attack and a rebellious act against them, even if she died by 'accident'. He had to win her over, somehow.

He hoped he hadn't been too harsh on her. He was a bit irked and tensed those days. He hummed. She had done a great job with her shock approach.

Anyway, back to work.

On the other side of the line, the young agent had unfortunately misinterpreted Orion's behaviour. His brusque manner and lack of condemnation and a general absence of communication touched her teenage insecure mind. He was probably still angry at her! It was even worse when he was silent than when he shouted! But then why would he let her continue? Hmm, he probably still needed to pit her and the Lieutenant! Well, she would show him!

She left the dark side street she had used to make her call and regained her hotel, she didn't want the Lieutenant to listen to her call. She looked around as she took the key to her room and realized there were some young couple around. What was up with those people?

The owner joked about her having a 'pretty boy' in her room. She was rather confused. She had a boy, yes, but not pretty at all.

Was this a special day?

**A CERTAIN SCP**

The sun kissed Matthew's face as he took a deep breath. He was currently on the balcony of George's and his apartment. He took a drag from his cigarette before tossing it over the rail guard. He watched the still lit butt falling to the ground, over a dozen metre below.

He sighed and frowned. He was waiting for Alparslan to show up, but the man was late. He turned as he heard George talk.

"...Honey, please."

Wait what?

He soon realized his friend was phoning someone. He watched with a raised brow as George began to melt in excuses. Finally, after a good five minutes of conversation, he couldn't hear and didn't try to George hung back the phone with a deep sigh.

"Who was that?" Asked Matthew, approaching the relieved-looking man.

"Ah, it was just my girlfriend." He answered.

"Woah, news flash, you got a lady friend now?"

"I already told you about her but you nod off when you don't really care." Accused George.

"And why did she call?"

"She was pissed off cause it's Valentine's Day and I'm here. Also forgot about it completely."

"Oh."

There was a small lull before someone knocked on the door. George went to open it and discovered Alparslan and, surprisingly, Captain Caetano. He was dressed in a civilian outfit with bandages around his throat and lower face.

He invited the two to enter and they repeated their strange hand sign before stepping into the apartment.

"Caetano! You're still alive?" Exclaimed Matthew with surprise, despite their attempt the Captain had been attained by the gas and had been transported to the hospital in critical conditions, ravaged by the agent as they had been knocked out by another gas.

Truth to be told he had expected the soldier to be a husk, with dissolved and thrown up internal organs, just like the rest of his men.

It was a cold mechanical voice that answered him.

" _Managed. To. Keep. Out. Of. Gas. Throat. Burned. But. Can. Talk. Is. Only Temporary."_ He assured.

"I'm sorry about that." Apologised Matthew.

But the Portuguese only shook his head.

" _Not. Your. Fault. My. Men. Are. Main. Victims."_

"I see."

"Well, now." Began Alarpaslan. "I'm glad to announce you that you have been cleared for duty and that you will resume your activities as agents."

The two GOC agents sighed in relief as they heard the news.

"However, you also have a new target."

"And who might that be?" Questioned George.

"The FBI, or rather its paranormal wing. You are to identify their local agents, establish a list and when told, interrogate some with a possible execution later."

The two friends welcomed the order with a simple nod, though they were perplexed as to the recent importance of the Unusual Incidents Unit but did not share their concern.

"Very well." Answered Matthew, curtly.

"Now that's settled. I have other things to attend to. Keep up your vigilance."

"Oh, and Captain, will we see you again?" Questioned Matthew.

" _Not. Right. Now. Will. Train. White. Suit. Then. Be. Back. Also. Mourn. And. Send. Letter. To. My. Soldiers. Family."_

"Ah, I see. Well, good luck and continuation."

The two men departed, saluting and leaving the two alone.

Truth to be told, it was a boring day.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Singing.

"There is a building in Academy City."

Tic toc.

"They call the Windowless Building."

A smile.

"And it's been the ruin of many poor souls."

The switch.

"And god, I know I'm one."

The thumb hovered.

"And now it's going to hell!"

And just before the singer could press the switch a force pushed him aside, sending him barrelling toward the wall. He didn't have the time to react when dozens of spikes embedded themselves in his clothes, pinning him to the wall.

"This is Judgement! You are under arrest for attempted terrorist acts, premeditated homicides, unlawful detention of explosives and unauthorized entry in Academy City." Announced a young girl, tugging on her Judgement armband.

The terrorist only trashed against his bonds before being stunned by a taser.

Kuroko Shirai sighed, brushing back her pigtails. Those last few weeks had been very rough.

First, the ape, that was called by some Touma Kamijou, disappeared, leaving her Onee-sama in a distressed state. What a jerk!

And then her Onee sama herself disappeared! Her friend, partner and love disappeared without any warning, vanishing in nature like a ghost. Shirai had despaired for days, tied to her bed by the strange force one could call depression.

And the Accelerator too! That had arisen suspicions and worries.

Then, the calls began. Terrorists, bandits, aggressions, Skill-Out attacks, foreign agents. It was as if all of the City's enemies had come out of the woodwork; as if the absence of two (and more) of its protectors had incited their enemies like blood would sharks.

Judgement, Skill-Out, Hound Dogs and even the Black Crows, were fighting a war on multiple fronts. Research facilities, power plants, Error Child facilities and even schools or malls were not safe from hostility.

Superintendent General Crowley had begun active militarisation of Skill-Out and Judgement, and now Shirai carried a taser. Some could, shockingly, if they volunteered and passed a course, carry loaded firearms. There was even talk of drafting some Level Two to Four espers in Judgement or maybe in a new citywide defence unit. Skill-Out gangs and various espers crime organisation, once allowed to exist, had been brought to their knees, Crowley leaving no place or internal instability in the face of such hostile attitude.

Even the government of Japan, their normally closest ally, had begun throwing their hat in the ring over the control of the City.

The now five Level Fives had also been enrolled in what some called, the Grand Esper Army of Academy City. They served as morale boosters and shock troops. The Superintendent General counted on them to help grow, instead of a nationalist sentiment, a... _metropoli-st_ sentiment?

She had remarked a recent growth in pro-Academy City and Crowley posters or even articles.

As such Shirai Kurorko could only sum up the entire situation in three words. It is shit.

She looked at the Windowless Building, in which Crowley resided. The tower, whose name accurately described it, towered over the rest of the city, now free of explosives charges.

Inside of it, the ruler of Academy City, who floated head down in a tube of orange liquids was reviewing different reports from his multiple security forces. Its unnaturally cold gaze swept over the pieces of information, assimilating them in less than a blink.

The situation was not that dire. He just had to make sure that the City held. If it held for a month. A month of constant attacks and pressuring then he would come out winning or at least not defeated.

Luckily, he could still count on his allies. The Anglican Church, the remnants of the Kamijou faction, and the different cabals and entities allied to their cause or Academy City's.

He had managed to make the scientists from Prometheus Labs, those whose machine had made the Imagine Breaker disappear, work toward constructing a new machine. But progress was excruciatingly slow as most key members of the project were absent. He had to go faster.

At least some of the other important pawns were secured, he remembered, looking at a photo of the Index Librorum Prohibitorium. She had been photographed sadly munching on some food, behind her four battle nuns of the Anglican Church. She had been moved to a remote and safe location.

He also still had the Spare Plan, Kakine Teitoku, who was now the unofficial Number One of the City as Accelerator's absence had been described as temporary, just like the Railgun's.

The City had turned into a gloomy metropolis as the recent measures from the Board, or rather Crowley had fallen. More patrols, more security robots with actual weapons, harsher enforced curfew. Parents were getting worried for their children, and the feeling was returned by said minors. Well, except for the orphans of course.

A Certain Highschool was particularly calm, the absence of its most uproarious and known residents, Touma Kamijou and Tsuchimikado Motoharu, had thrown a veil of boredom, worry and disappointment over both the student and teacher corp.

The middle school of Tokiwadai was also lost in a certain sense of melancholy, having lost their Invincible Electric Princess, aka Misaka Mikoto. Misaki Shokuhou, the Number Five Level Five herself had been distracted by the disappearance of her gossip proclaimed 'rival' as well as the boy she loved, despite his inability to remember her.

And now she was drafted by old Crowley to serve as a foot soldier in the defence of the City. Fortunately, it didn't bother her. The City was her home, not Japan nor any other country, and she would fight if it meant preserving it. Furthermore, if Gakuen Toshi was to fall, she would be tracked down, and maybe executed due to her power, frightening the uneducated mind of the outsiders.

But she doubted the Metropolis-State would roll over and die like that. No, it boasted a population of two point three millions with about forty percent of its population possessing abilities, with nearly half being able to defend itself. It also hosted the finest and most devastating weapons humanity had ever created, excluding nuclear weapons. And against those destroyers of worlds, several anti-missile batteries and satellites were ready to destroy any hostile Intercontinental Missiles or nuclear bomb.

There was no army more advanced than the City's, no sturdier armour, no deadlier guns, no faster craft.

Even the economy could hold against a blockade, hydroponic farms could be rapidly multiplied and other conveniences could be created thanks to advanced technology and automated industry or even bought using submarines or stratospheric planes to transport them.

And the icing on the cake was not the autarky, the military or even the technology. No, it was the political power.

Misaki was sure that old dog Crowley possessed intricate and deep relationships in about every governments and secret societies the world hosted. And even better were the parents. Media coverage of them, terrified of a military intervention or a possible sanction induced crisis against their innocent children could potentially swivel public opinions in their favour.

Yes, thought Shokuhou, a war against the City is a lost one. She looked outside the window, it was a chilly windy day. Academy City was safe now, and she would ensure it stayed that way. She got up, throwing a jacket around her shoulder.

As she walked out of the room, the girls of her clique followed, growing in number, forming a mob of more than fifty devoted followers.

She had traitors, spies and infiltrators to find, those who wished to harm her home were more than invited to try. And fail.

Across the city were dozens of special groups, defeating those who seek to harm their home. From Sogiita Gunha's 'Gakuen Jiei Sentotai', or 'Student Self-Defence Corps' to darker underground units, such as BLADE headed by the de jure Number Two but de facto Number One, Kakine Teitoku who lead a band of misfits, gangsters and criminals. There was also NEXUS, another special unit who regrouped the entirety of the Misaka Network, the surviving clones, lead in a way by Misaka Worst.

Those were some of the defenders at home, though they tried to remain discreet as to not alert the population. Sogiita's unit posing as a student initiative for simple self-defence and legal crime vigilantism.

In the metropolis, despite the wind, people were out, it was a Sunday after all. Students attended their business, enjoying an innocent afternoon.

In a corner of the City, an agent from the exterior was wrestled to the ground in an alley and dragged to the shadows.

In an amusement park, where hundreds had been drawn to, shouts of joy and laughter could be heard.

A man, compelled by a mind, other than his own, accidentally slipped on the stairs, breaking his skull. He had classified documents.

Malls buzzed with activity, laughs and admiration for attractive clothes, food and other delicacies.

A Sister, one saved from the monster that was the Level One, fell on the ground before her aggressor could be neutralized. Her eyes were glassy as her sisters gathered 'round. She was the first. Who knew how many would follow her?

And despite this shadowy war, something haunted the population. They hid it. They distracted themselves with earthly pleasures, or with the research of knowledge. But it was there.

Every time they saw alert patrolling members of Judgement, whose gun sometimes showed. Every time they saw Anti-Skill, guns out, their faces stressed. Every time, when from the corner of their eyes, they could see a dark figure, disappearing in a blink. Every time articles talking about deaths or suicides would be taken down. They would remember.

They knew. But they didn't want to.

And it was on a windy day, that Valentine's passed.

Some thought it was the best of time to declare one's passion, after all, anxiousness, revealed one's true feeling.

The City was rife with either words of love or death throes.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"I believe I made myself clear enough."

"Order! The honourable Administrator is politely demanded to speak only when given authorization."

The Administrator rubbed the bridge of his nose in a sign of annoyance. He was in what he liked to call The 'turtle's shell'. Because the architecture of the place was oval shaped with a sloped ceiling and that shades of green coloured the place. But mostly because it was so, so, so slow.

The 'turtle's shell' was actually the Ethics Committee main voting and discussion hub. It was a hemicycle, garnished with long benches, covered with forest green cushions, which followed the curvature of the room.

Behind The Administrator were four high seats, which hosted the trio heading the Committee, Chairman Anagonye, Deputy Chairwoman Shelstrop and Senior Executive Al-Jamil. Anagonye was on the second highest chair in the middle, while the two women flanked him. The highest seat, just behind Anagonye's, however, was reserved for the Regulator of Committee, The Most Honourable Regulator Mendoza, or simply Jason Mendoza.

He was stuck in a debate with the Committee, on whether he should be handed more control over SCP-Zero or whether status quo should be kept. Fortunately, they couldn't vote to have more control over it. Before him were five hundred people. Some were in flash and bone but others were holograms. Most of the present representatives were deputies, tasked by the actual members, who were busy for one reason or the other, to vote. They were in direct video or audio communication.

He himself was a projection, and he appeared as a tall figure draped in shadows.

Now, the whole process had been rather stale. It was his last time to talk before the vote.

"The floor is to the honourable Administrator."

"My honourable friends and colleagues. We have witnessed that the recent event in the City of Los Angeles proved us that sorties or other extra-Site activities beyond given missions are too dangerous to continue for SCP-0000. It has, unfortunately, resulted in the death of an esteemed colleague, as well as harm to innocent people. It has hurt the credibility of the Foundation considering its capacity to defend one of its most prized residents. As such, I humbly demand the Committee to review its decision."

From the benches came agreements, signalled by silent applauses where the representatives stopped their hands just before hitting. He smiled, if he saw right, he had the majority.

Now for the second part.

"However, my honourable friends and colleagues. I must ask of you, as I did before, your trust and your consent. As we all know your experience, knowledge, dedication and moral standard were the reasons you were selected for this most illustrious institution. As such, it is with careful consideration that I ask of you to cede me special powers over the entity known as SCP-0000. Because, my honourable friends and colleagues, the only flaw I can ever find in this most honourable institution is the required time to act."

Most of the representatives disagreed, rising from their benches before sitting back in a silent and orderly manner.

"Indeed, my honourable friends and colleagues, it is necessary for you to take the time to reflect and debate in this brilliant marketplace of idea. However, sometimes, sadly, swifter decision making is needed. For example, in Ukraine, there is a situation, caused by our great enemies. Each second which passes only help them in their goal. This most honourable institution has taken its time to act, has discussed and debated motions just as we are doing. But there, there are no debates, only death and sorrow."

He stopped, like attained from grief and worry, which could be found in his tone before it took a more assured and dominating one.

"I swear, by my title, that my only wish is to avoid further harm to those we protect, I only desire to achieve our most supreme duty, the defence of those who live in the light. Should SCP-0000 be under my direct and express command I will allow it to use its full potential to protect our most valued charges. As such, I humbly ask of you to revoke Article Seven, and thus granting me direct and undisputed power over SCP-0000, for the good of all. Thank you very much."

He gave a small bow while cries came from the benches as traditions required. He grimaced, he wasn't sure of having the majority. It was hard to differentiate the cries of approval and their opposites.

He, or rather his projection sat on the seat reserved for him, just before the quarter and before everyone's else sight.

"Order, order." Demanded the slow dragging voice of Mendoza as he tapped on a small gong. "Now for the representatives to take the floor."

The Administrator felt reassured when no one rose. His motion may not be popular but they couldn't deny its importance. They knew that such a process was only slowing down the crucial deployment of the Imagine Breaker. They had used Article Seven, which allowed the Committee to further manage an SCP, decides of its use and allowed two direct and untouchable observers to be sent.

However, this also meant that each time he wanted to deploy Kamijou, and by consequence Team Gamma he would have to pass the motion through the Committee who would vote it, after a mandatory debate and a bureaucratic and ceremonial procedure. All in all, it was a very slow process.

With a surprised look, he saw someone rise from the benches. Oh, it was her, Mishimoto. Come young one! It would be her first speech in the shell, wouldn't it? If she could actually make his motion fail, he would have to monitor her even more. But she could also prove her worth and maybe, make a fine addition to his Shadow Party.

The Shadow Party was an unofficial group of Committee representatives that were on his side. None of them knew they were part of this 'Party', and who were the others composing it. They were tasked with voting in his favour as well as giving him intelligence and sowing dissent among the Committee when needed. Unfortunately, they only represented ten percent, as the representatives were very stubborn concerning their positions as political counterweights. They could also advise him on the political decisions he made.

He broke out of his reflections as the Regulator spoke.

"The floor is to the honourable psychologist Mishimoto, Level 2."

"My honourable friends and colleagues. I wish for this most honourable institution to repeal the motion of the honourable Administrator, for the following reasons."

She took a little break to breathe in.

The Administrator had seen and felt the nervousness behind her words. She lightly trembled, just like her voice sometimes. It was also a bit Well, that was normal for her first speech, at least, for her sake, she did use the good wordage and formulations. He had seen some fail to use the pompous and traditional 'honourable' and other forms.

"Though the honourable Administrator does advance valid arguments, I have found, uhm, interesting documents about the honourable Administrator and his... decisions concerning SCP-0000."

She took out an envelope containing handouts, before speaking again.

"As both a representative of the Ethics Committee and a member of SCP-0000's staff, I am allowed access to some complaints regarding the entity. " She cleared her voice. "According to the honourable O5 Council you have deployed SCP-0000 without their agreement in the hazardous situation of a hostage-taking. As well as several dangerous cross testing which you did not even refer to the Committee, such as SCP-012, SCP-055 and SCP-343. How can we trust your handling of SCP-0000, when you yourself put the entity you have stated to protect to the best of your capacities? As such I humbly ask my honourable friends and colleagues to repeal the honourable Administrator's motion. Thank you for your attention."

The room exploded in agreements, they had found their way to counter him. The Administrator didn't know whether to be impressed or angry. It had been quite a long time since a newcomer like her had been able to counter him like that.

Moreover, she had managed to control her speech and spoke with assurance as she progressed. A good info digger and charismatic enough. She could be a great ally or a frustrating enemy. But in any way, she would be a future influence in the Committee.

"However." She continued as the Regulator hadn't given the floor to any other person yet. "I also propose a snap motion."

A snap motion was a motion proposed and voted on the same session, unlike his which he had proposed two days earlier, just after the LA fiasco. It was dangerous as the quartet behind could cancel it if any of them wished.

"Honourable friend and colleagues, I will be direct. The honourable Administrator does speak the truth. This honourable institution needs more flexibility and swiftness in its handling of SCP-0000. As such I propose to make any votes concerning the usage and deployment of SCP-0000 as a snap motion, which according to Article... Thirty-four, cannot be vetoed by the higher chairs and the Regulator of the Committee. This would allow us to perform better and faster while keeping out the risks of unwarranted and dangerous deployments and usage. Thank you very much."

While silence first met her proposition, Anagonye soon clapped, followed by the rest of the shell. The Administrator felt a tinge of respect grow for the young but irritably clever woman. Indeed, she could make a fine addition to his collection of Shadow Representatives.

The session continued with the other honourable members speaking, though, they just repeated his or her arguments with different wording or more flourish. Finally came the votes.

He voted yes to revoke Article Seven and Touma's sorties, his propositions, and no for the snap motion Mishimoto. A moment passed as the votes came in. Finally, it was over.

"For the first proposition, forwarded by the honourable Administrator, three hundred and twenty ayes." Announced Shelstrop.

"For the first proposition, forwarded by the honourable Administrator, eighty-seven noes." Complemented Al-Jamil

"Hear! Hear! The ayes have it! The honourable's Administrator's second motion is passed." Announced Mendoza.

The Administrator smiled. At least he had managed to rapidly curb this idiotic decision. He met Mishimoto's disappointed eyes, to which he replied with an apologizing but patronizing smile. Now for the second vote.

"For the second motion, forwarded by the honourable Administrator, one hundred and eighty ayes."

"For the second motion, forwarded by the honourable Administrator, two hundred and seventy noes."

"Hear! Hear! The noes have it! The honourable's Administrator's second motion is repealed."

Celebrations came from the benches while the Administrator frowned, grinding his teeth. Too bad, he would have to do further lobbying and shady operations.

"Order please ladies and gentlemen!" Demanded Mendoza. "The results of the third motion, proposed by the honourable psychologist Mishimoto."

"For the third motion, forwarded by the honourable psychologist Mishimoto, two hundred and sixty ayes."

"For the third motion, forwarded by the honourable psychologist Mishimoto, one hundred and two noes."

"Hear! Hear! The ayes have it! The honourable psychologist Mishimoto's motion is passed."

Once again it was victorious cheers who rose from the benches. The Administrator saw the psychologist look at him with a smile. He felt his eye twitch. That little newcomer was acting a bit too arrogant for his liking. But she would soon be either on his side or neutralized.

And at least he would still be able to send Kamijou where he wanted, since he had managed to make that mission approved by the Council beforehand and had made sure that the Committee couldn't stop it. He hoped he was right, or Kamijou would die. But of course, he was.

Valentine's Day here was simply full of long and boring talks.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"It's been a long time, hasn't it? If we don't count our latest interaction since it was less than... pleasant."

Alto Clef, leader of Mobile Task Force Lamba-2 was slumped against a glass wall, his ukulele between his hands and his long-brimmed hat hiding his upper face.

"It has been, dear."

The voice, ancient and fresh, belonged to a woman at the other side of the glass wall, also slumped on it, her back to Clef's. She was of an average build with a pale Middle Eastern skin. However, her most interesting features were the reptilian scales she had around her ankles and her thighs, though those were hidden by her orange suit. Her mouth was encased in a metal contraption, which had a small keyboard with numbers on it.

"Dear? My, my, aren't you nostalgic." He said with a teasing tone.

Her answer was laced with amusement.

"To be fair, I don't know what's worse, being in a relationship with you or nearly eternal solitary confinement."

"Good point, neither do I."

An angel passed.

"So, what brought you here, Alto? You didn't come to just to chit chat, did you?" She reopened the discussion.

"Actually, I did. How have you been, Lilith?"

Behind the glass, the woman's brow rose.

"You must get really bored. And to answer your question, it's been decades and decades since anyone called me by my name or that I've seen anyone else who isn't here to verify I'm not dead or trying to kill myself while being confined in a six by six room with nothing to do." The bitterness in her tone was acid.

"I see, I guess it could be worse."

"It could, I suppose." She shrugged. "And you, dear?"

"Better than you, I dare say." He answered drawing a tiny chuckle from the woman. "I think I might have found a good replacement for when I'm gone."

Once again, a crystalline laugh rose from the other side of the glass.

"My, my. Alto Clef himself speaking of his death, what a world we are living in."

But Clef wasn't amused. He doubted he would have enough time to achieve it. He had wasted his time in foolish and immature ventures. But now, now that he knew, he had to do something. But what did he have left? Less than a decade. Not more. Insufficient for what he conceived.

"Well, dear, nothing is eternal. Even my awesome self." He replied with fake boastfulness.

"And who might be this person?"

"The person I hate the most, the feeling is mutual too."

"Oh? I doubt it is me, so who do you hate more than _my self_? And how did that happen?" She asked.

"Well, because or thanks to your... parting gift, she has already a bad opinion of me." He began.

"Well, yes, but that can't be it. The curse wasn't that powerful."

"She was my subordinate."

"Ah, I can understand then. But why your replacement?"

"Turns out that rage gave her enough juice to climb through the ranks. She is actually a good fighter, and she is compatible."

"I never thought that the curse would actually help you." She chuckled. "Well done. So, are you still trying to counter Him?"

"Of course." He huffed.

"Why don't you trust the organisations? They are trying to cooperate together. Surely they are abler than your lone self." She questioned.

"Maybe. But they are still tied down by squabbles, they are too slow and do not trust me. If I have to win this alone, then I shall do so."

"Always your arrogant usual self." She hissed in displeasure. "So blind, so stubborn, have you even visited your daughter?" She accused.

He stopped. A devil passed.

"I sent her a letter some years ago. And do you even know about the united front?"

"Do not try to change the subject, you really are a worthless father." She spat. "She was forced to abandon her, and I was restrained here. You have no excuses."

He said nothing.

"She was happy you know before the Foundation goons came to take her. She had a proper surrounding, a loving entourage and a sad but righteous life before her. She did nothing wrong. She was traumatised."

"Don't act so innocent, you are why this happened to her!" He roared.

She was silent.

"If I had known I would have done everything in my power to cancel it." He finally spoke.

"And now?" She questioned.

"I can't do anything. I have to lay low until I can finally eliminate 239 and the seventh."

"Weren't you already stopped?"

"You sure know a lot. But now it is different, with Kondraki dead, no one will be able to stop me when I know where they are." He affirmed.

"Whatever, now that you are in this do deep, I hope you haven't betrayed me and abandoned her for nothing."

"Who knows. Well, it was... nice and infuriating to talk with you but I have to go." He said promptly ending the discussion before it degenerated into something else.

"Hmm, good luck." She still wished him as he left.

He exited the interview room, passing the guards and scientists. They had been unable to record their discussion and tried to stop him but he shrugged them off. They couldn't decipher the modification of ancient Sumerian. He knew he wouldn't have any problem, it was in his deal with the Administrator after all.

As he stormed through Site-17, ignoring the looks he was receiving he reminisced Lilith's words. He had indeed ignored his daughter. Maybe, maybe he could see her. That would have consequences though... Screw consequences! He was Alto 'Fucking Satan' Clef!

And as such he used his instinct, navigating through the Site. Finally, he arrived where he wanted. The door was guarded by two female guards who stopped him, telling him that there wasn't any planned visit.

He looked around, there was no one around, it was a secluded area of the Site and he doubted that anyone would come.

He took out his papers, as well as a small pike, thin like a sewing needle, and discreetly flicked it at the camera. With a swift movement, belying his unimpressive and unathletic appearance, he knocked out the two women before they could do anything.

He used their cards to open the door, dragging them with him inside the room. Said room was another corridor with a door just in front of him and another one, five metres to the left. From the leftward door came another woman.

"Anna, wh-" She stopped as she sighted Clef.

In response, the researcher, once again defying his physique was upon her before she could do anything and with a well-placed uppercut, knocked her out cold. Before she fell, he caught her and dragged her in the other room, which was an observation post with CCTV screens. He did not look at them, instead, dragging the others in it.

When he finished, he went to the other door, which had 'MALES ARE TO BE ACCOMPANIED BEYOND THIS POINT' written in bold letters.

He just opened it with his card and entered the containment. He was faced with a wall of translucent glass, behind it he could see a furnished room as well as a naked feminine figure, which he still averted his eyes from, out of pure respect.

"Hello? Is there anyone?" Asked the girl, with a young voice.

He stood silent for a few moments, realizing that he had acted without really thinking. He had come here without any real preparation, to the point of actually incapacitating those security officers. Wow, sometimes he could be really dumb.

"Hmm, hello?" Insisted the girl, seeing well there was someone behind.

"Hello, Epon."

The figure froze behind before relaxing.

"You are mistaken. My name is Maria."

"This is the name you were baptised with, but not the one your mother gave you, Epon."

"How do you know that?" She asked with distress.

"Because I met your mother when she was young, she had hooves for feet and starlight in her eyes. She was beauty and nature..."

"F-father?" She mumbled, her voice full of sadness.

"Yes, it is me." He confirmed.

He gazed sadly at the ground as choked sobbing could be heard.

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted... no, I needed to see you." He admitted.

"But... why? After so much time..."

"I don't know. I talked with an old... acquaintance. And, here I am."

There was a pause.

"Why didn't you visit me before?" She questioned, an undertone of bitterness present.

He contemplated the plain ceiling.

"It is a long and complicated story, which would require that I explain in great details how two worlds exist on this planet and how they interact with each other."

"I do not care. Tell me." She waved off, her meek voice becoming firm.

And he told her, he told her about the Foundation, the anomalous world, the Global Occult Coalition. And while he omitted several details, carefully avoiding talking about the Serpent's Hand, the Church of the Broken God, the Crimson King, the Sarkics and the Hanged King, he managed to dress a simplistic and safe portrait of the supernatural world.

"As such, that was why I couldn't come. I was forbidden too, and I had a lot of work to do... to protect you."

Silence once again. The mighty and famed agent that was Alto Clef was awkwardly shuffling in anxiousness.

"Can you come inside?" She asked.

He stopped and looked at her.

"Oh, no, forget it you'd act like the others a-"

"No." he cut her off. "I won't, do not worry. I know what you can do and it won't affect me."

"R-Really?" She mumbled, hesitant.

"Yes, I have been in those kinds of situations before. If you or anyone else like you could affect me then I would have never met your mother." He chuckled.

"A-alright, then come. I want to see you."

"Cover yourself before." He demanded.

He heard and saw her comply as she threw a fabric around her form. Then, he went toward the entrance, a door made of similar translucent glass which opened when he slipped the guard's card.

"I'm entering." He announced, before executing said action.

He looked at her and his eyes widened. Despite the curse, she reminded him of a lot of her mother. Especially the natural silky long platinum white mane that was her hair. Even without the unnatural aura of attraction she had, unfortunately, inherited she was breath-taking. Some of her traits reminded him of Lilith's, her mother's were present. The pointy canines, the sharp brows, that Greek nose.

But, for the first time, Clef didn't feel attracted, nor did he feel desire, like he did with nearly all women. No, he felt happy, that despite such a closed and monitored upbringing his daughter had bloomed into such a beautiful flower. Not thanks to him, though, he remembered. She had thrown around her shoulder a thick and smooth blanket which, thankfully, hid most of her body.

He also noted how her eyes were like his, mismatched, but hers were shining black, like her mother, and the other blue, just like his. He noticed how she looked at him.

"Yes, I know, I'm not much to look like." He sighed. "But I am your father, I swear, Epon."

Indeed, compared to the unparalleled physique of his daughter he was lacking in every department with his unkempt greasy hair, beer belly, sunken eyes and fat nose. He smiled as she nodded, apparently accepting the notion.

Once again there was a small silence. The two not looking at each other.

"So, you really don't react like the others." She whispered. "Why?"

"It is something that I'm not sure of myself. It is just how it is. I suppose." He half lied, he couldn't say everything about his particularity without compromising crucial information.

An aspect that his daughter had, and the reason she was here, was that whenever a biologically male human would look at her, he would enter a second state. And without euphemism, he would try to rape his daughter. This simple notion made his fist and heart clench. It was a fate no one deserved, moreover since she was in prison despite being the victim of all of this. Thankfully each time someone had been under the effect he was stopped before he could fully commit the act.

Fuck you, Lilith. Fuck you and your shitty curse, he thought back. Though he knew she didn't expect it to turn out this way.

Epon nodded, also accepting this notion.

"You still have to tell me why I never met you. You could have taken me with you."

"Unfortunately, I didn't know your mother was bearing you, not until it was too late."

"How could you not know!?" She cried.

"My superiors at the time, from the Coalition, ordered me to kill her. At first, I obeyed, I put a gun against her head, for the second time. But for the second time, I couldn't. Not when I saw her eyes. You have one of them, you know? The other is mine. Anyway, I couldn't, so I hid her and I ran. I ran away. Because they could always find me, but not your mother. Then I was welcomed here. By those people, the Foundation. Against the insurance of her safety, I swore to serve them and to never see her again. I only learned of you when I sent you the letter, three years ago."

"Who is she? Can I ever see her?" Asked Epon, desperately, hands joined like a prayer.

"Her name is... her name is Dáirìne, she is... something apart, a woman like no others." He said, with a small smile, which he soon lost. "But no, you cannot see her, I do not know where she is and most importantly, you must never tell that you know of her, or that I came here. If you do, they will wipe it out of your mind."

"I see." She whispered. "By God, I wish to see her."

"I hope too. However." He began. "I-" He stopped, prompting a quizzing look from his daughter. "Nothing, forget about it."

Silence once again. He grimaced, he was now out of time, he had to go.

"Epon, I am sorry for all the pain I caused you. But I swear that I will protect you and that it is one of the reasons why I was and will be absent."

She nodded before speaking.

"F-father." She seemed to speak the word with difficulty. "When the Abbess left, she always hugged me. Would you do the same?" She mumbled, hopeful.

He smiled softly and felt his heart both ache and warm up.

"Of course."

He approached her, slowly, when he saw her shiver at first, before finally engulfing her into a hug. He tried to restrain his tears, but his eyes began to water, thankfully it did not roll down. He hugged her tighter and tighter, feeling her small body covered by the blanket press against him. That was until she tapped him on the shoulder since he was nearly strangling her. He apologised and loosened his hold.

"I forgive you." She whispered.

His eyes widened and he pushed himself back a bit to look her in the face. She had a pure smile on her face, eyes brimming with tears.

"I forgive you."

Those words were those he longed for years, it appeased him to no end, flames of guilt were extinguished.

"But, why?" He questioned, doubt still in his heart.

"Because your intentions were noble, because you only enacted the Plan of our Father in the sky, and because He taught us to forgive, even those who do wrong." She said simply.

He wanted to scream. He deserved no forgiveness dammit! And if there was a God that decided fate, he would kick its fucking ass down to Hell. But he said nothing, his anger fanned by the bright expression that his daughter bore.

"Thank you, Epon. I'll try to visit you whenever I can. I love you." He kissed her on the cheek before heading toward the exit.

"I love you too."

He stopped. She shouldn't. Now he had to tell the only truths about him.

"Epon, there are three things that are true in this world. The first is that I am your father, the second is that I love you, the third is that I lie. Do not love me. For one cannot love a lie. Be careful of what I say and do Epon."

"Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins." Recited Epon. "And even then, how do I know you are not lying about you being a liar?"

He felt a great smile split his face.

"You really are my daughter." He chuckled. "Farewell Epon."

"May God guide you, father." She earnestly bid him.

Then he was out of the room, and he headed toward the exit without looking back. He entered the room just before the corridor and sighed. If he was honest there were some things, he said that he wasn't sure were true. He had lied and forgotten about so many things that truth and lies were hard to differentiate.

After administering by injections some doses of amnestics to the guards he decided to go back to his office. He opened the door leading to the exterior only to freeze when he saw both Adams and Kear waiting for him. The first had an angry expression behind her shades while the second had his calm grandfatherly smile.

"D-D-Di-Director!?" He mumbled in surprise. "A-Adams what are you doing here?"

"I was waiting for you to finish your business." Stated the old bloated man.

"What happened in there!?" Barked Adams. "This is 166's containment, I h-"

"If I were you, I wouldn't continue this sentence, young woman." Interrupted Kear. "I know that Dr Clef is more than capable to hold a civil discussion with SCP-166."

"How do you know?" Questioned Adams, a surprised look on his face. "And why?"

"It would be unbecoming of a father to do such things to his daughter." Revealed the Director.

Adams fell in mute silence, mouth hanging, while Clef furrowed his brows, preparing himself for a fight.

"How do you know that?"

"I am the Director of this Site, it is my duty to know a bit about Epon." And before Clef could reiterate his questions he spoke again. "I know because I am the one that intercepted your letter, Doctor. I am the one that delivered it untouched to your daughter. And as for why." He anticipated the question. "I do not adhere to some of the most... mainstream ideas of the Foundation. It would be cruel of me to keep two parents from each other. Next time you want to visit do not knock out the guards, ask. It will not be recorded in the logs, however, try to be discreet and limit your visits. Now I have work to attend do. Farewell lady and gentleman. Oh, and Clef, do not try to fight me, you'd find me harder than I look. Just like you"

And without letting the two place a word he departed.

There was another awkward silence.

"Uh, so you are a father..." Mumbled Adams. "Wonder who the fuck would sleep with you."

And the banter began.

"Someone with good taste."

And they continued to exchange crude and hurtful remarks until they slumped on the Site's bar, a few drinks in their blood.

Valentine's Day could have been worse.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Dr Bright had been hectic ever since, well actually he was always hectic. But he had been more excited than usual after Kamijou had met, or rather not met SCP-343. He had been comparing data and had proposed so many cross tests with different kind of situations that he had eroded the patience of everyone who came in contact with his overactive self.

Now, after being the target of a copious volley of insults from another scientist who he had upset to the point of killing intent, he had disappeared. Hence why Dr Light was currently looking for the eccentric researcher. She sighed, he was beginning to get a tad too old for Bright's oddly youthful exuberance. After all, he was older than her, his mind surviving any death thanks to his amulet, SCP-963.

If he could choose, his hosts were often young people who had a past for wild and, well, youthful, behaviour.

Finally, she found him, he was sleeping on his desk. They had looked everywhere except in his office since he was never in it.

She smiled softly, he looked innocent for such a devious person. As she approached, she lost her smile. On the desk were several lines of white powder. She shook her head, disappointed.

She took the power and put in a pouch, to burn it. She threw a vest on Bright's sleeping form. She approached her face from his and softly pressed her forehead against his. Afterward, she draped his sleeping body with a blanket.

Finally, she left, she was worried but whatever she did he would not listen.

That reminded her, she had news to announce.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Team Gamma's Elite Intervention Squad were having a farewell pot. Not because any was resigning or because any had been fired. Instead, it was a custom found in certain groups to honour the dead like co-workers that left for another place. In a way, they were right.

"To Ansa, who could probably nail any skips from the moon."

Hyperboles and exaggerations were also commonplace.

They drank the beer in their mug, before slamming it on the table and chatting with each other. Jenner and McKenzie getting particularly cosy to the point of leaving the small gathering arms linked, Wanda decided to let them be. Miles and Botha got in a discussion about how they would deal with wild animals with anomalous characteristics.

Campbell tinkled on his phone, apparently writing and checking his lines of code. Jensen on his part was cleaning his knife in total silence. Walker, on the other hand, began to initiate conversation with Wanda, apparently trying to put their differences behind in such times.

Their discussion was meaningless, it was about recent events, about how what this person in the Foundation or about that SCP which did that, or about the exterior, where they speculated what could have happened then, checked if it did.

Then, in the middle of the commemoration, Light barged in the small room they were using.

"Carter, come here I have to talk you about two things."

The sergeant nodded and headed toward the blue-eyed scientists who led her outside of the room.

"Carter, Team Gamma will soon be deployed."

"So soon? We just arrived!" Protested Wanda, she was hoping that both her team and Touma would get some time to rest and mourn.

"I know, but this can't wait. However, you and your squad will not be deployed." Revealed Light.

"Pardon? What do you mean, you just said that Gamma was deployed."

"You would be useless considering with what we are dealing with, you would only get killed or if you miraculously survive you will be traumatized for life. We prefer not to. The only one sent is SCP-Zero."

"Then why are you sending him?"

"Because those are the orders and this is final. Now for the second reason, I'm here." Said the researcher. "The replacement for your latest loss has arrived. She is also a talented sniper, she is using a very... special weapon."

"What kind?" Asked Wanda, intrigued.

"An energy weapon, to test for future medium production."

Wanda whistled. She had heard of some Foundation energy-based weapon but most were stationary lasers like the Soviet Terra-3 or the more recent US Navy anti-drone laser. In a way she expected it, the Foundation was extremely advanced, but it was still so... sci-fi sounding.

"Oh, and also, between us be careful with her. She's nice and all on the outside, a little haughty sometimes, but... she's a bit... unhinged inside. So, treat her with some care." The scientist informed her.

The sergeant gave a hesitant nod. With the crew of weirdos that was Alpha-9, she doubted one more would be trouble. Light guided her through a few corridors before opening the door to a small room.

"May I present you your new sharpshooter, M-"

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"You have called me Arch-Ingeniator?"

"Indeed, come, come."

Those words were spoken in a great hall made of polished bronze. Spires supporting the ceiling of said material were wrapped by vines of pewter. The ceiling was covered by a great mosaic depicting

a mighty battle between two beings.

One, on a light background, was a titan made of plates, pulleys, lever, gears, pipes and wires. The other was a horror, with parts hidden by the darkness surrounding it, it was the opposite of the previous being. Instead of the noble and clean appearance the metallic titan, this one was a mismatched patchwork of flesh, bones, faces, legs, arms, teeth, tentacles, pus, pulsing organs.

The two were frozen just before they engaged each other into their great battle. One that lasted to this day, one that had begun even before the scene the mosaic depicted.

"Adept Logika?" Called the Arch-Ingeniator.

Logika shook herself from her contemplation of the mosaic. She was an adept, it signified her rank, comparable to the one of a Deacon. On the other hand, the Arch-Ingeniator, or Arch-Engineer, could, in a way be compared to an Arch-Bishop. However, the Arch-Ingeniator was far from being her superior, and was rather a rival, or even an enemy, to whom she reluctantly complied.

"I am coming."

They were walking in the great hall, ticking and grinding noises surrounding them as gears turned and clock accompanied them. She herself emitted a light ticking sound, her right arm, covered by her red robe, was composed of multiple alloys, mostly titanium and brass, and was composed by multiple steam alimented engines and other mechanical parts. The same could be said for her left calf and knee.

In her arm was a long metal halberd with a gear at the head, which could turn thanks to a valve gear, like the wheels the steam trains of old. The other side had a drill which slowly turned, compelled by a complex system of cogs and springs once again powered by steam.

Logika hurried her pace, catching up with the Arch-Ingeniator who was draped in a robe made of copper. The face of the man himself was hidden by a welding mask with intricate patterns carved upon it.

They entered the office of the Arch-Ingeniator, a mess of blueprints, drawings, plans, mock-ups, tools, worktables, materials with a large desk of metallic alloy with chairs.

But there was one thing that alerted Logika, the presence of another person.

A girl of a similar age, nineteen, was seated in one of the chairs. She turned to look at them. Her face was the same as Logika's, except for a few differences.

Where the adept's eyes were smoke grey, the other's were light blue with a soft glow. She also had, on the side of her head a discreet metal bar which could pass as a unique piercing.

They were also very different in their clothes. Whereas Logika's outfit exuded tradition and religion with ample long red robes with motifs of gears, and a deep hood which obscured most of her traits. Her hair was dressed in a conservative style, in contrast, the other girl was dressed like a modern city slicker, a sleeveless military anorak, a white t-shirt and faux leather pants. Her hairstyle was an asymmetric pixie cut covering her right eye, which managed to flow through the black bangs, with the left side shaved.

The two, however, shared the same traits concerning height, build and facial features. They had the same round face, large eyes, full lips and sloped up nose and light chocolate Lybian skin. Indeed, the two were twin sisters. In a strange way, the two also emitted sounds, though those were not the same. Logika was ticking while a light hum came from her sister.

However, instead of rejoicing, they readied themselves for a fight, Logika raising her cog halberd while the sister jumped on her feet as a blade with a network of blue LEDs jutted from her wrist and a small cannon from the other.

" _STOP!"_

The eruptive shout of the Arch-Ingeniator froze the two sisters in their tracks.

"What the-" Began the sister.

"That's enough Data."

The words of the Arch-Ingeniator, were like whips, prompting obedience from any. Without adding anything the young woman sat back.

"Logika, take the seat next to your sister." He ordered, still leaving no room for arguments.

The two, despite being seated together avoided eye contact and shifted themselves away from the other, in a petty attempt at contempt. This made the Arch-Ingeniator sigh internally.

"You may wonder why, I summoned all the groups of our faith. This is very simple and ordered by His Holiness Robert Bumaro. As you all know while our methods differ, we all share a common goal. The reassembling of our broken God. As such, in agreement with other leaders, it has been decided that all-faction encompassing task forces are to be created. You have been designated to be part of the one I command." He explained, before letting the two speak.

They didn't waste time.

"Pardon? I'm not collaborating with a heretic!" Began Logika, slamming her hands on the table.

"And why should I work with an unenlightened miscreant!" Added Data, her hands mimicking her sister's.

The two looked at the Arch-Ingeniator, their gaze blazing.

"Calm, calm. Why? Because we cannot continue like this. Our ancient nemesis and their allies are growing each day. We cannot stand, broken like our deity Itself, we must put our grudges and judgement aside to fight against our true foes. You just did that, against me. We can do it, against them." He exposed, his mechanical voice taking an ardent tone at the end.

The two fell silent, retreating in their chair, only the noise of ticking and humming could be heard.

"But why do we have to obey you!? The Broken Church is not above us!" Claimed Logika.

"I had no choice in my affectation. Here are letters signed by Saint Hedwig and Legate Trunnion ordering you to obey my orders. I have been placed as chief so you wouldn't kill each other." He said bluntly, handing Logika a scripted manuscript while he gave Data a printed letter.

The two read them and confirmed it was indeed authentic, the documents ordered them to obey the Arch-Igeniator.

"Tch, I guess that's how it is." Mumbled Data.

Logika remained silent but he noted that her steam pipes hissed louder than before. He groaned, they had still a long way to go before the vision of His Holiness would be achieved.

"And what are we supposed to do?" Asked Logika.

"I am glad you asked." Said their superior. "Our first mission shall be a joint one, it is extremely dangerous but I have been told you are up to the task. We shall work alongside our new allies of convenience, the Foundation and the Horizon Initiative."

"Really? The first holds pieces of our God!" Protested Logika, making Data's head shake.

"And the second has been trying to kill us since we are 'heretics'' Added Data, air quoting.

"Once again, we are ready to abandon our small struggle for the grand fight. If we lose then it is the end. The world shall fall to _them_." A shiver passed through the mechanical voice. "This shan't be a Second War of the Flash, this will be the Last Great War. And we must win!" He hammered his statement. "For now, you shan't care whether our God can be made whole again by physical reassembling." He looked at Logika. "Or if it should be by the digital way." This time his gaze settled on Data. "Or with what materials one should transform its body with."

The twins looked at each other and hesitantly nodded, without losing their less than happy expression.

"Good. Good." Purred the Arch-Ingeniator. "I am sure our results will be fruitful. Get ready, we shall depart tomorrow when the clock strikes ten before noon. May the Broken God guide your path."

Logika repeated the last sentence while Data changed it.

"May WAN guide your path."

This elicited a disappointed look from the man, and an irritated on from her sister. The twins left the room, leaving the religious official to carry out his prayers and communion with Mekhane.

Outside of the office, the two women looked at each other before parting ways, rancour in their heart.

**A CERTAIN SCP**


	24. Doorway(s) to Nowhere and Three Portlands

A great burst of flame licked the ceiling, blackening it. Magnus Styil observed the mark with a certain sense of satisfaction. As days passed it seemed that his flames regained their intensity. The same could be said for Othinus, though Kanzaki still had troubles with her Saint based magic.

Said Saint was still able to cleave blocks of concrete with ease. Tsuchimikado on his end had tried and failed, to socialize and thus establish contact with Foundation personnel. They always rebuffed his attempt with politeness or simple cold indifference. One had been foolish enough to actually fall for the trap.

After a short conversation one of the Ice Coats, as the group had now called Lerouge's soldier due to their temperament and clothes, had escorted the man to an impromptu meeting. He had ignored Tsuchimikado ever since.

The Sisters, themselves had mostly tried, in vain to find a way to put the Accelerator back on track. However, the electrode wasn't functioning without the Control Tower, Last Order. As such the albino boy was still pinned to the hospital bed, pathetically fed and kept breathing by machines.

The doctor, however, had promised that they could soon begin operations and had even promised a permanent solution for him, which would grant him independence. However, he had warned that the specialists were already busy, and they would have to wait an indefinite time.

Finally, Misaka Mikoto was bored. There wasn't a lot to do honestly, she had been doing some internet, watching videos and all, thanks to a computer the Foundation had lent them. The Foundation had still warned them that they would monitor their traffic and that certain sites were off limit.

As such, she had researched the history of the world, trying to understand the differences between this one and theirs. The first was that, of course, Academy City never existed. The second was that despite most historical events and characters being similar the most modern ones were different. The Presidents of the US or the Prime Ministers of Japan were divergent since approximatively two thousand. She had googled her name, out of pure curiosity, only to find vague and unknown people on various social media. Nothing more.

She had also searched for Aleister Crowley, only to be disappointed, met with a long-dead man, renowned for its extravagance and his crazed eyes. A far cry from the City's mysterious Superintendent General.

She sighed as she closed the laptop. Even academic materials had been underwhelming, most published public research being at least one or two decades earlier than the City's if not outright archaic. Works on laser, robotics, artificial intelligence, spatial research, optics were particularly lacklustre and backwards for Gakuen Toshi's standard.

She hoped that the good ones were classified, otherwise it would be very disappointing.

What a drag, she missed her home, at least she could entertain herself, but here... But that wasn't what mattered. They had to find Touma, the quicker, the better. And the wait for any more information was getting infuriating.

Just as those thoughts crossed her mind, someone knocked on the door. She answered with an 'Enter', prompting everyone in the room to stand at attention. It was one of Lerouge's soldier, the one with a grey service ribbon. There was a guard next to him who spoke in his place.

"Researcher Lerouge got something to tell you, please follow him." He pointed at the white-clad soldier who nodded.

Abandoning their occupations, the group followed suit, as their guide walked in great but measured strides toward his destination. It happened to be his superior's office, the man himself was comfortably nestled in his large leather swivel office chair.

He noticed them and flashed them a smile. Not a cold one, or one that reflected his malicious self but this time one of genuine contentment.

"Please come, come." He waved them to get closer. "I doubt you want the politeness formulas defining our social interaction, as such I'll skip to the important part." He spoke, with a bit of an excited undertone.

"You look... eager. What is it human?" Asked Othinus, her glare, which hadn't changed during most of their stay, annoyed.

"I'm sure what I'm about to say will lift your mood. We think we may have some actual leads on your fellow, Touma Kamijou." He said, prompting a few incredulous looks. Then, his smile dropped. "However, there is some bad news."

A collective sentiment of unease settled on the group.

"Fortunately, you may be able to solve this." He added, relieving them a tad. "Here, take a look."

He showed them a photo of Touma during the Battle of the World Way, which had been taken by a witness on a building. The man had been memory wiped of course. The picture itself depicted Touma talking to a woman in a van. Unbeknownst to them, this wasn't the Insurgency agent, which the identity still escaped the Foundation, which had tried to recruit Touma, in Site 06-3,

The photo hadn't been changed or transformed in any way, except for some bits which had been cut out. The expression he wore, one of hope and hers, a smile could be interpreted as complicity and the perspective helped so.

Truly, it looked like they were working together.

"This is Touma Kamijou, correct?" He asked them.

They answered by the positive.

"This woman..." He pointed at the Insurgency agent. "Is dangerous. She is part of an armed opposition to us, their motives are strange, but they are a near... cult, with strong, uhm, homicidal tendencies. They're known for slowly tricking people and then recruiting them. Their ultimate goal is unknown, but we assume it's either out of cruel amusement or maybe sacrifices. We fear that Mr Kamijou is being manipulated as we speak, unwittingly helping them accomplish their plans. Unfortunately, we have been unable to track him down. But we have a lead."

He took out another picture, which was the sigil of the Unusual Incidents Unit, a golden bald eagle holding in one a sword and in the other a screaming stylized ghost. Behind was a pyramid with a stylized UFO as its eye. There was a circle around, where six stars throned in the lower hemisphere while the words 'Unusual Incidents Unit' were in the upper one.

Misaka recognised it, she had seen it during one of her research on supernatural events and things. Though, there was no information on the department in question, only that it had been the target of many mockeries, to the point of forgetfulness.

"The Unusual Incidents Unit is an offspring of the FBI. We think they may have some information as to where Mr Kamijou is, if they don't actually have him down their secret prisons as the group he is with and the UIU had a violent interaction. That's where you come into play."

They straightened up, ready to hear whatever he was about to say. He took a deep inspiration and exposed their mission.

"You will be driven to one of the three Portland, which act as gates. From there you will be able to access the city of Three Portlands, the nerve centre of the UIU. Your mission is simple but difficult. Break in their HQ, search for information and if you can rescue Mr Kamijou or another prisoner. We may trade them against intelligence. The hard part is that when you're in the city, you're on your own until you get out. Understood?"

They nodded.

"Very sorry but we can't help you, it would have disastrous consequences." He clicked and typed on his computer a few times. "I sent you the details for any of your approaches, though, infiltration is, in my opinion, impossible. I also have a warning. This city has... unusual particularities, there are some you will see in the photos. And the city does boast a significant presence of magicians, the overwhelming majority are not battle apt. They are peaceful people, like... well not you and me but you get the point. You should only contend with humans, maybe enhanced with some prosthetics but... be careful. Oh and, you don't want any bloodshed, right?"

They all shook their heads, though some hesitated, only following Misaka and Kanzaki's lead.

"Very well." He showed them a picture of Jane Hoover. "If you can, try to capture her, if she is in the building at the time. You can go now. Tell me when you are ready."

As they withdrew from his office he waited until they got far enough, at least for two minutes before sighing and sloping in his chair. He had managed to maintain his game, they had bought their story. Now, he could only hope it would go alright.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Kamijou Touma established that, recently, he had been travelling by plane more than in any period in his past life. This time he was alone, in a small cabin of a small jet. He knew they had flown over the Atlantic and had made a stop after crossing the ocean.

He didn't know where they were going. For now, he guessed they were somewhere above Central Europe. He had been very surprised when Light had told him they wouldn't go with Wanda and the rest of her squad, instead they would meet new allies.

He had no idea who those 'allies" were or what he would do with them. He had been told to dress and get on the plane. He hadn't refused. In a way, he did want some action. He was half anxious and half excited about whatever he would face.

He currently was dressed in one of his outfit, orange t-shirt, buttoned white shirt and black pant.

Finally, the plane landed, softly and he was escorted to a black car, which immediately drove off to the mysterious destination. He could see from the windows, signs written in Cyrillic. He looked at Gardiner, the new staff member, who was seated next to him.

"We're in Russia?" He asked.

The man shook his head, looking at Light, the co-pilot, who shrugged.

"We're in Ukraine. Western Ukraine, don't worry we're far from the Donbass conflict."

While he ignored what it was, he nodded, probably another bloody affair in this dark world. It was another two hours of travel by car, where Touma enjoyed a, relatively, peaceful slumber, lulled by the purring of the motor but shaken by the jerks of the car.

He was woken up by Gardiner when they parked, in the middle of the countryside. He got out and stretched. The sun was low in the sky, and the cool and humid air refreshed him, it was morning.

They were fields of green, wheat that hadn't yet matured. There was a farm further away, where tents had been set up, he could see dozens of people milling around.

The building, old and made of wood, was innocent looking but left a strange impression when watching it. It was composed of a huge bar, linked to a large house and stables. Anyway, they began to walk toward the barn.

"You know what it is?" Asked Touma to Mishimoto.

The young woman shrugged. She had been warned thirty minutes before that she would be accompanying Team Gamma on a new mission. She had tried to contact the Committee but they had answered that it was out of their control and that they did not wish to further incur the anger of The Administrator. She grimaced, they could be spineless and useless sometimes.

Then, the SCP turned his eyes toward Bright, who only answered with an enigmatic grin. Light's was an apologetic look and Gardiner didn't even look him in the eye, apparently fascinated by the Ukrainian lowland.

He sighed, what was going on with those people? They finally reached the ring of tents around the house. He observed, with a bit of incredulity, priests sanctifying weapons. Most of them looked like Orthodox priest, atop their heads either a Kamilavka or a Koukoulion. There were also some imams, other Christians priests and even one or two rabbis.

Most of them threw blessed waters on the weapons or prayed and signed above the weapons, assault rifles, pistols and even swords but most of all sanctified the ammunition, made of silver, strangely.

There was another network of tents farther away, those ones were closed, each having a symbol of the religion emblazoned upon it. Men, which composed the entirety of the expeditionary force, were waiting in lines and entered them one by one, seeking privacy for whatever prayer, confessions or other rites they observed.

Three people, two imams, three Christians bishops, or their equivalents and a rabbi came. Each represented their cult and the splinters, two imams for Shiite and Sunni Muslims, three bishops for the Catholics, the Protestants and the Orthodox. And the rabbi was alone, representing the unified Jewish cult.

Each shook hands with the members of Gamma Squad before the rabbi spoke.

"Hello, we are the representatives from the Horizon Initiative. We lead the Holy Order of The Final Salvation." He said, a series of nods from the others confirming his day.

"Pleased to meet you." Answered Light. "We are the team sent by the Foundation." She presented the team.

"Very well, maybe we can introduce you to our other... allies, before proceeding to the planning." Said the Sunni imam.

Thus, they were led by the council toward a retreated set of tents. Unlike the others, made of white tissue and emblazoned with Abrahamic symbols, those seem to be made of different materials. There were three. The one in the centre, built with tin, had for image a hammer breaking the ground while lightning crackled around it. The other to the left, made of copper, had an oil-well like sigil with a cog-wheel in the middle of it, the last tent, made of silicone it would seem, bore a network-like sigil.

When they approached, three people got out of the tents. From the one in the centre came a man clad in a robe made of small blades of copper and a fully covering antiquity mask of the same material, bearing various complex engravings. A huge war hammer of copper, thrumming with energy, was strapped on his back.

From the tent to the left came a young woman, also dressed in a robe, though this one was made in a red organic material. Curiously, she emitted regular clicks. In her arms, she held a long halberd which had for a head a sharpened cog made of silver and held in place by a valve gear. It also had a drill of silver behind which slowly turned, as cogs and steam-powered it. Her face was also interesting since she shared it with the third person.

They were twin supposed Touma as his eyes drifted to the final mysterious person.

Dressed in a furred black leather vest, with underneath a black sweater, with blue highlights, whose collar covered her mouth like a mask, which she pulled down, and dark grey military pants as well as dark grey combat boots. She did differentiate herself from the more religious, or sect, looking people. She had no apparent weapon but he knew better than judging by appearances solely. There seems to be a thing to emit noises in this sect since he could hear a light humming, like a computer coming from her.

The two shared the same face, same diamond shaped face, full lips, slightly flat nose, high forehead, and of course the same brown skin. he observed with interests. However, they were different in hairstyles, the one with the red robe having wavy hair black hair reaching to her shoulders in a more traditional manner while her twin had a short pixie cut hair covering her left eye, as well as a shave on the sides. Their eyes differed too, the pixie-haired one having electronic blue eyes while the other had grey, smoke like eyes.

"Hello, I am Arch-Ingeniator Calculus, Mekhane bless you." He said, extending his hand to be shaken.

He didn't shake Touma's hand, instead, giving a respectful bow.

"I am afraid for my structural integrity." He explained.

Touma mimicked his gesture, unwilling to pass as rude.

The robed woman, mimicked Calculus' gestures, shaking hands with every person, though she seemed to have a rather contemptuous expression on her face. When it was Touma's time she extended her left arm, which he shook with his own, apparently unwilling to bow.

"I am Adept Logika, may His Gears turn in your favour."

The last didn't shake their hands, instead of letting out a simple 'hi' or "hi there'.

"Hi, I'm Data, WAN guides you and all."

Touma observed the three, evidently, they had some differences. The most flagrant being the appearance of a second being named WAN... Like the Wide Area Network? The other seemed to be a bit more oriented toward gears, he guessed... strange... a mechanical god? Mekhane did sound like a machine... a Latin root?

So, a machine god... a cult of technology? He wondered what the differences between Logika's faith and Calculus' were. Their only difference was that one wasn't ticking. He observed the numerous gears and pressure valve as well as the small cloud of steam coming from Logika's halberd.

Calculus' hammer, despite the fact that he couldn't see it in its entirety was free of such things. So... a pre-Industrial age cult, a post-Industrial one and a digital cult. Lovely, he sighed, if the tension between them was anything they probably were at each other's throat for one reason or the other.

"Before anything," Spoke Calculus. "May I inquire, to confirm, that this young man is indeed The Calamity, the one who erases what is above nature?"

The Calamity? Woah, he felt loved.

"Ah, young man, you are not calamity for us, but for _them_." Added the Arch-Ingeniator, apparently remarking his expression. "And I assume you are this person."

"Yes, I am. But what do you mean _them?"_ Asked the young man, frowning.

"Well..." The robed man looked around. "You shall soon see. Shall we proceed as planned?" He now asked of the other leaders.

They nodded, and the group headed toward the farm.

"Do you know what's happening?" He asked Mishimoto who shrugged, as perplexed as him.

He trained his gaze on Logika, who turned away, as if too bothered to answer to someone as low as him. He sighed. Then, he looked toward Data. To his surprise, she answered.

"Don't worry, they just want to see how the farm reacts to you." She revealed, prompting annoyed look from everyone, especially from Logika.

He nodded, thankful for her warning. He deduced the house was supernatural in a way, though he did not know in what way. He didn't have the time to ask for further precision when they arrived in the main door of the barn.

It was near a small barricade of sandbags with multiple machine guns and an howitzer as well as some strange, gear and steam-powered cannon with two cylinders on the side, one with water and the other with balls of metals, linked to the main frame by flexible pipes. He presumed it was tied to Logika.

Considering this, if he took a closer look at her he could see the form of two cylinders on her back, hidden by the robes, there was also a flexible pipe, with a bit hanging from the robe before going back in the tissue.

They approached the walls of the farm, going around the main door. Touma could feel something seeping through them, a smell of rot and dry blood. He swore he could even see the smell, like small volumes of black fume escaping the dry brown wood.

"If you could touch it please." Asked Light.

He advanced, slowly, toward the farm a slight feeling of nausea climbing from his entrails. He ignored it. He was about to touch the walls when suddenly, it opened like a door, a lock and hinges that weren't there a second before came to be.

He moved back as he saw what was beyond the entrance. Or rather, what was not. Indeed, it was only a pit of darkness, which could go on and on forever. Like a black hole, light seemed unable to escape from it, as if trapped forever by whatever forces occupied the building.

"Two meters to your left and try again please." Came Light's voice.

Once more he obeyed.

And just as his hand was about to come in contact, lines were drawn, hinges appeared, a lock came and a door opened. The pit of black was the same. It could have very well been an infinite hole or it could have just been a pitch-black wall in front of him. Schrödinger's mansion he thought with a slight smile.

"You can come back now."

Once again following the instructions he joined the main group.

"It would seem the house wants him to enter..." Trailed off the Protestant.

"Should we try as planned?" Questioned the Orthodox, turning toward Light.

She thought about it for a dozen seconds before nodding.

"Mr Kamijou, if you could please repeat the previous demands."

Once again, he approached the walls and a door opened. He noticed that the two women from the strange technological church accompanied him, not dropping a single word.

He looked behind, as he heard footsteps to see dozens of men, dressed in black or white robes with various religious inscription or symbols, like Gothic Cross, stars of David or moon and crescents. These people had their hood pulled low enough to mask their face while they bore weapons, from classic rifles to bastard swords or even scimitars.

"Mr Kamijou, is it?" Began Calculus. "If you could please enter." He asked.

Taking a deep breath, he did as he was told and stepped toward the dark entrance.

"Good luck."

He brutally turned. He had definitely heard someone behind him, and he had felt something light touch him. And that voice... he remembered it. But from where? And from who? And when? But there was no one behind him except for the twins, at a respectful distance, and the strange group of robe-clad men.

Logika looked at him coolly with a raised brow.

"Is something the matter?"

He opened his mouth before closing it.

"No."

He put one foot in the inside. He gazed into the abyss. He stepped into it, the two women close behind him, each grasping one of his shoulders. They entered, soon followed by the whole procession, about ten Initiative soldiers. They were in a tight formation so that they would always be connected to each other and to the door itself.

The light from the outside lit the interior, though it seemed filtered. The walls and the ceiling were made of wooden planks.

"TRY TO TOUCH A WALL INSIDE!" Shouted Bright.

The result was that the wall moved away, escaping the hand, sliding smoothly away. He informed the scientists and they told him to come back out.

Just as the words had left their mouth, an unexpected sound resonated. A whistle coming from the air. They looked to see some kind zero toward them. The religious devouts froze, not knowing whether it was related to their own religion, another or if it was something else.

Calculus shrieked, the sound was chilling and piercing, forcing many to cover their ears as some strange mix of animal cry and gurgling assaulted their ears.

From Calculus' back came enormous legs, similar to the one of a praying-mantis as well as small transparent wings, from the same insect. Calculus hopped from his position to the mansion. He crashed near the porch of the farm and before anyone could do anything he disposed of the men near the door, those outsides and inside.

The door closed before disappearing, melting back in the wooden wall.

From the top of a nearby tree, a figure dominated the scenery, cape billowing in the wind.

"If only I could have accompanied him." She sighed. "But he will be alright, he will."

And she vanished.

Back in front of the barn, everyone was shocked as the Arch-Ingeniator began to cackle, more grotesque limbs growing from him.

"If you could look at your face!" He roared with laughter.

Indeed, the religious leaders and the scientists had a horrified and stunned look on their face. They barely reacted as something crashed on the ground next to them, sending dust in the air.

"I am too late. I deeply apologize."

As the dust settled, a male but effeminate figure appeared. Clad in a black cassock composed of black smooth metal sheet, with mechanical themed lead made motifs on the right sleeve, was a man. His skin was brown, nay copper as it shone like the mineral and if one looked close, he could indeed realize that it was said material instead of skin. Hairs made of threads of silvers were attached in a ponytail reached his backside. In his hands, a bare skeleton of orichalcum rested a mighty war hammer, one side had a large flat face while the other had a wing composed by gears, of the same material.

Finally, wings, shining like gold in the early sun shone as a beacon of indestructible faith in a sea of darkness.

And without another word the angel charged Calculus, bringing its hammer to bear. The thing that had become the Arch-Ingeniator avoided the weapon, which broke the ground. It cackled, four tentacles waving behind, mantis legs and wings deployed while his arms fell on the ground, soon replaced by large blades made of unnatural keratin.

" **Bumaro..."** It gurgled smugness filling the savage voice. **"... It has been long since I saw you, Builder."**

His Holiness Father Robert Bumaro, Builder of the Broken God and chief of the Broken Church said nothing in response. His wing extended behind him and from it came a rain of metal blades.

The turncoat Arch-Ingeniator swiftly hopped in the air but was soon followed by The Builder, its wing carrying him faster than the wind. Soon, he was above Calculus and he slammed his hammer on the traitor, sending him back to the ground like a meteor.

He did not let the thing recover and was immediately on top of Calculus' broken but living form. Putting his metal boot on the back of the thing he spoke.

"Why Calculus, why? You drank the Ichor." His voice was metallic but soft as he questioned his former spiritual brother.

" **Broken God... is weak... will never be whole again..."** It began to chuckle. **"Just like your church... no one will trust you... after you sent their disciple... to die,** **led** **by... one of your... followers... hurgh gurgh"** It chuckled or rather retched in pervert mirth.

"Enough! I will not tolerate this heresy any longer. You have abandoned the true faith and have consorted with the great enemy by your own conscience. By the will of Mekhane, you shall die."

And without further ceremonial, the hammer crushed Calculus' head, its body shivered and spasmed for a few seconds before staying still.

Bumaro looked around him, only seeing shocked people, hesitating between running away, subduing him or staying in this position forever.

"I may have some explaining to do." He grumbled for himself before heading toward the leaders.

Inside of the mansion reigned a shocked silence. There were incredulity and a sense of denial at first as the only lifeline to the outside world and for many, survival was cut in the blink of an eye.

Lamps were lit, chasing away the darkness for a bit. They all considered that their way out had disappeared.

Then, the members of The Last Salvation resigned to their fates, bowing their head and muttering prayers. Their role, after all, had never been to survive but to die in a glorious last stand in the name of God. As such, it was all too natural and fateful for such thing to happen.

Logika for herself began to pray, fear beginning to grip her heart. However, she did not lose her composition. She was to be steel, she was to be a machine, she wasn't here to fear but to fight and if need to be, to die in the name of Broken God. As such, she steeled herself, this would be her test.

Touma froze, not knowing exactly what happened and the consequences, though the looks the others sported hinted at an unpleasant future. And if he was to extrapolate from his past... adventures he concluded that it was likely lethal. Or worse. Well, he had already dealt with such odds. He would likely come out on top. After all, he had faced Othinus, a god. This was a mere house, with some supernatural characteristics. The important thing was to protect whoever he could. He tightened his fist and focused on the tasks of getting out and getting pieces of information on this anomaly.

Data for her part did not follow the example of her fellow house-venturers. She screamed, startling everyone and ran to where was once the door, banging on the wall with desperation. The devout of The Last Salvation stepped back in panic, fearing some demonic origins for the woman's behaviour. Logika did not move and even had a small smirk as she watched her sister, a silicon heretic, despair.

Touma, unsure of how to proceed.

"No! NO! THE SIGNAL! NOOOO!" Shrieked Data.

"What's happening to her?" He questioned her twin.

Said sister offered an increasing smirk.

"Her connection to her network is cut. She cannot contact any of her fellow believers. Truly, the weakness of Maxwellists never ceases to amaze me."

He was taken aback. They were twins, weren't they? How come her response was so apathetic?

"Why are you so calm?"

She shrugged.

"She chose her way, she chose the way of the heretics. This is her repentance, this is the punishment of the Broken God."

Fanatics, he thought, the lot of them. He began to walk toward Data, who had stopped screaming but was still trying to find an exit. His eyes widened as he saw her distancing herself too much from the main group, and the ceiling of the room began to descend, trying to separate her from the other.

He rushed to her and tugged her roughly to the main group, where she crashed, thrown on the ground to save her from the terrible fate.

As silence dominated once more the small human party, Touma spoke.

"Let's stay grouped."

Nobody objected.

"Does anyone know what the hell we are supposed to do?"

Nobody answered.

"Great." He spoke with morbid sarcasm.

"I-I suppose we could find the core..." Began Data, having recovered her bearings.

"The core?" Questioned one of the Abrahamic.

"There is something inside this house, where the... things that haunt this house put their prey on. We were told," She looked at Logika. "that destroying it would destroy the house."

"Sounds good enough, any drawbacks?" Asked Touma, betting his faithful right hand could do it.

Data tried to open her mouth but she was cut by her sister.

"Only that the thing inhabiting this... house wants to tear out our heart. And they can only be killed by blessed weapon while praying to a deity. That's the only 'drawback'." She looked intently at Data.

This one looked revolted before understanding what her sister was trying to do.

"Well, let's go shall we?" Said Touma.

"Can you defend yourself from the things roaming in here? You are the only one, to be honest, which I doubt has true faith." Coldly stated Logika.

"Hehe, I should be alright." He chuckled. "Or I count on you ladies to protect my weak self."

This brought a slight smile to the two women.

"But you." He pointed at Data. "Can you continue?"

She nodded.

"While my access to WAN and the great network has been restricted and is painful, I can still fight." She answered.

He hummed.

So, she was part of a giant network. Was it like the Sisters? Thinking about her he hoped they were all doing alright.

"Well, maybe we should get going." Said Touma. "The faster we find this thing, the better."

As such the group delved into the darkness of...

"...SCP-1983... literally a haunted house that was neutralised by our agents before." Explained Light to Bumaro.

"I see. How was it neutralised?" He asked.

"We sent a Class-D in it. He was awarded the Foundation Star, highest award, and was promoted to Class C personnel." Revealed Bright.

"Maybe we could ask him his services again." Proposed The Builder.

"The thing is..." Light looked at Bright. "... That he was awarded and promoted, posthumously."

"Ah, well I hope they can make it through. What are their chances?"

"Alright." Sighed Bright, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We sent about thirty men in there and the Class-D. Casualty rates are -drumroll- one hundred per cent. Even if they can reach the Bleak Heart, they will die." He explained with an Olympic calm.

Bumaro stayed silent before sliding into a chair, his eyes losing themselves in the horizon. That was it. He had been trying to get the Church of the Broken God, which had fragmented over the centuries into three groups, back together. He was on the verge of concluding a coalition between the three factions, to bring them together against the unholy alliance. He counted on the fact that this struggle would help everyone understand each other and bring the three cults together, or that they could even complete the Broken God once again and usher the world into a new age of prosperity.

But this traitor had ruined it all! Curse him and his folly! The armrest of the chair broke under his grip.

Data and Adept Logika were respectively liked by their superiors, which had great influence in their respective factions. If they were to die after being commanded by one of his closest advisors, and he dared say, friend, they would be up in arms against him and his fragile cordial entente would be shattered.

As such he did the only thing he could. He prayed. For this could be the decisive factor in the survival of the Broken Church, the only salvation of humanity.

Darkness, it swelled around, it seeped from the wall, it was in the air. The smell of the house was the one of rot at least one gets used to it after some time.

The inside of the farm was much bigger than the inside, Touma realized, they had now been walking for a good hundred meters in a long hallway, deciding to go straight instead of losing themselves into the maze of side rooms.

There was a lamp, one of the only sources of light not coming from them, thought Touma as they passed below it. A few seconds later he stopped as he heard something creak. His sudden halt made Data, who was following him crash gently into him and Logika, who was leading the procession halt.

"What?" She asked, her voice as cold as ever.

"Didn't you hear?" He asked.

She looked at him strangely. Their halt raised some questions behind, asking for the reason. She was about to say to move it when she also heard something creak. She looked up, only to see a torso hanging from the ceiling.

It belonged to a creature made of twisting darkness and shadow. It was gaunt with long and sharp fingers which he directed toward her as she descended.

"Alert!" She screamed.

From the walls, the ceiling and even the floor came similar beings, phasing through the walls. She brought her halberd to bare and flicked a small lever on it. The water began to steam and gears turned, which in turn activated the valve gear, and with it the sharpened cog-wheel began to spin, ready to tear apart the unholy enemies.

This move was mirrored by her twin, whose wrists spat a blade and a cannon, with faints blue lightning. Sanctified weapons were aimed at the offending attackers, and soon the barking of guns and prayers formed an intense choir of unwavering steely devotion.

The beings slid across the solid planks like ghosts, only to be on the receiving end of righteous fury. Some silently disintegrated into small piles of yellow rocks, sulphur. Most resisted at first the hail of projectiles but eventually 'died', forming new stacks of sulphur.

Logika took a swipe, a prayer on her lips, at one of the beings, the spinning silver gear cutting straight through whatever composed the creature. Data herself used the cannon coming from her wrist, shooting silver bullets.

Touma for his parts tried to intervene but was stopped by Logika.

"Don't, you don't have a weapon, they'll rip out your heart."

He was about to protest when he felt something cold sneak up his legs. He looked down to see a black shadowy appendage crawl in him, phasing through his flesh, its owners head poking out of the floor. Without thinking he threw his right hand at the limb, making it disappear in a chant of broken glass.

"See, no need for weapons." He smirked despite the dreadful situations.

The adept only answered with an imperial huff before continuing her holy work of purgation.

One of the gaunt shadows approached him, uncaring of the dangers, he effortlessly batted it away, leaving nothing behind. The assault began to intensify as the fearless and seemingly mindless creatures swarmed the corridor.

"We have to move!" Yelled Data.

"We shall stay and fight!" Countered Logika.

"We are going to get overwhelmed!"

"If we move, we'll break formation!"

"Formations are useless when you're dead!"

"You're not a fighter, you're a hacker!"

"You're fucking dumb!"

"You are a coward!"

"Can we have our say in this!?" Asked one of the Initiative's soldiers.

"NO!" Answered the two.

Touma began to sweat as the pressure from the attacking beings began to intensify, where he once 'killed' one every six seconds he now 'killed' one in half of the previous time. For some reason those who were lit by light seemed more resistant, taking one second to disappear instead of instantly.

He was also beginning to feel physically sick and afraid, the house was beginning to mess with his head, he touched it and began to feel slightly better. Whether it was just a placebo or not, he decided to not explore this further.

"They're too many! We-Jibril, allow my blade to strike true!- Have to move!" He yelled.

Begrudgingly, Logika agreed as more Initiative's devouts supported their comrade's proposition, as they were reduced to fighting with their swords and scimitars, reloading being too dangerously long as the waves of profane beings grew in intensity.

Slowly, still slowed down by the tide of killing darkness the group began to advance. They gained momentum for one moment as the level of aggression toned down.

Their march turned into a jog, then a sprint as a mass of the ethereal ungodly being formed behind them, blotting out the way they came from.

As they arrived at well-lit fork others began to show up, coming from walls and the like. But still, they progressed.

"To the left!"

"No to the right!"

Came Logika and Data's voice.

As they arrived at the fork, the two tried to go the way they had chosen, only to stop when realising it. They fell into a venomous a frankly useless banter about where to go when the way to the right was soon filled by the apparently countless stalkers.

The three ahead of the group, Touma and the twins ran to the left, seeking the unbarred escape in a silent but mutual consensus. However, like a teeming colony of ants, they formed a column between the three ahead and the Initiative's adept. The expedition tried to cut through it, soon helped by the three ahead, but to no avail as the walls began to close, separating them from the others.

Strangely as the wall formed, it did not look like ordinary wood. No, it was dark, with red undertone and a bit shiny, it made a squelching sound, just like wet flesh.

"NO! Goddammit!" Shouted Touma, trying to touch the wall, only for it to move back.

"Stay here! They'll be fine, I think, we have to keep moving!"

He quietly swore but followed the twins as they began to run away from the newly placed wall. The darkness of the halls absorbed them as they delved deep into the cursed farm.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Planning an assault or an infiltration is never simple. You have to consider so many parameters that it can become impossible to find a way without risk and difficult to not find one where one has to neutralize someone.

Alas, espers like Misaka Mikoto were born to compute such parameters, after all, she had to calculate her own attacks and reality and remember them to the last numerals in the middle of a fight, a task nearly unfeasible for many.

However, the UIU's headquarters, despite their apparent weakness was surprisingly and worryingly well defended. They did lack some guards but made up for this crucial absence by several high-end devices. Cameras, motion and badge detectors, even in the ventilation. Some places were marked with possible emplacements for such devices, and if all were to be correct there was not an inch of the entire building that wasn't covered by them. Even the damn toilets had motion detectors which scanned if one had their badge. If they did not, there would be an alert.

Apparently, many of those securities had been recently installed, suggesting something dangerous or important and new had recently been installed in there. With some luck it could be Touma, after all, he was last seen in the US, doubtful that he would be in some place like Eastern Europe.

They had wanted to steal some badges from the UIU in order to infiltrate the place but it had been deemed too risky when they learned of the police system there. Apparently, any acts of violence, apparently based on the detected emotion felt such as anger, pain and other related, within the city would raise an alarm and multiple policemen would come to inquire and arrest the perpetrators and possible witnesses. This extremely complex system was the pride of the city. Established by the first mayor, some criticized it as anti-liberal and too invasive, fearing sombre and untold specifications, like illegal spying.

The only exception was the inside of the UIU's building since deaths weren't so rare, they had decided to immunise their building to this effect, in order to gain independence from the police and not to have to explain why exactly they executed this person.

That was one of the positive factors about the UIU, they were too proud to ask for the police's help. The contempt they received from the outside world had made them distrustful of every other organization, supernatural and normal, except for the Foundation, though this changing. As such, when in trouble, unless the Foundation was readily available, they preferred to face it alone and stand proud.

They especially couldn't lose face and appear weak in what was their only stronghold. As such, even if trouble arose within their headquarters, they would alert no one, maybe the Foundation, though it would be useless.

What had been decided was risky, but doable.

And for now, they were separated, the Sisters were flying to Portland in Maine, while Styil, Tsuchimikado and Kanzaki were transported by plane to Portland, Dorset, England. Finally, Misaka Mikoto and Othinus' plane landed in Portland, Oregon.

They had been shipped off to the city one hour after the Sister's group and one hour before Styil's group, as such they arrived at the same time at the cities, which were about ten to twelve hours from the base.

The city was modern, bisected to the south-west by the Willamette River and separated from its suburb, Vancouver, by the Columbia River. The airport was just to the south of it, overlooking the calm water.

Othinus was tucked in Misaka's handbag, hiding from the humans teeming around them. The two were accompanied by two of anonymous Foundation agents, dressed in casual clothing, who welcomed them at the airport's terminal. They were to lead them to the portal, which would, in turn, allow them to enter their target, Three Portlands.

The city was busy with many people doing their business. There was just at one point a small protest which disturbed the traffic for a while, but they soon passed. One of the agents, to make casual conversation, offhandedly commented that such events seem to be more and more frequent and larger.

They arrived at a simple but rather well-constructed grey stone made structure, dating from perhaps the end of the nineteenth century. A sign nearby indicated it as 'The Pioneer Courthouse'.

They entered the courthouse and navigated for a few minutes before finally arriving in front of an innocent door. Opening it revealed a courtroom, which was above all normal. There was a judge in it who looked at them with narrowed eyes. Calmly, the agent talked to him in private before coming back.

Silently, they went back to the car and drove. They drove somewhere, and before Misaka Could realize anything they were elsewhere.

The horizon was inverted.

There were non-human.

There were humans with unnatural parts.

There were in Three Portlands.

Misaka contemplated with slacked jaw the city. One could see nearly every point of it from where they stood.

One could compare Three Portlands like a bowl, always sloped downward, despite looking like it went upward. When one looked like he climbed up, he actually climbed down, and when one looked like he climbed down, he climbed up.

To precise, at about a certain distance, approximatively five meters away, the ground seems to spiral and turn upside down. People walked apparently upside down like gravity had changed side when it was just an unnatural illusion.

All in all, it was headaches worthy. Even Othinus, strong from a thousand years of experience still felt disorientated.

"Climb down. Remember, to get out you must escape by one of the three gates at the edge of the city. We'll collect you when you call us by the number we gave. Remember it? Good. Good luck."

And they were left alone in the city.

Misaka began to walk in the city, looking around, still amazed by it. Othinus getting out of the bag and levitating to her shoulder replicated her actions. Fortunately, the goddess did not attract many eyes. Maybe one or two were quite curious as to her size and choice of clothing but they soon ignored it. After all, it probably wasn't the weirdest thing they saw.

The buildings, medium and from the interwar dominated the city. They were accompanied here and there by small business, maybe some medium but never large supermarkets like one could see in the modern world.

The tallest construction was the UIU's building, towering as a symbol of dominance over the city, dwarfing the City Hall. They were using it to direct themselves since it was their destination.

As they approached downtown Three Portlands, they noticed how the building subtly shifted to 1890's style, championing bricks, steel and glass. The inhabitants also seemed better dressed, though it didn't look like there was a large gap in wealth.

With the Hoover lookalike building getting closer and closer, they also noticed how the slightly increased presence of police officers. While most were humans, they also had a fair share of cyborgs, whose main enhancements seemed to be strength oriented.

Discreet and rather well blended were also police or UIU agents in civilians. They could be noticed by two things, they had the same type of jeans, leather vest and sunglasses, as well as their rather inquisitive and alert look. Maybe those were some decoy, while real agents were hidden in plain sight.

They felt intrigued eyes land on them coming from the force of the order but they were soon off the hooks. Or at least we appear to, thought Misaka.

Now, only a few blocks apart from the headquarters she took out her cell phone and made a call.

"Tsuchimikado? Is everything ready." She whispered.

_"Aye aye, ma'am."_

"Good."

She hung before calling her sisters. She asked the same, and they replied positively.

She breathed and steadied herself.

This was one leap toward their objective. She exhaled and walked with determination, Othinus entered her bag as they stepped into the Edgar J. Hoover street, where the UIU's building was located.

She looked at the glass door, guarded by two agents, and behind it explosive detectors and other agents.

She faced the wall, hiding from public view, then, applied several patches on her face and putting a product in her eyes, she ran to the door.

She butted in one of the agents who raised an eyebrow, at first, his quizzing gaze turned into an alarm one. He saw in front of him a young girl, whose face was marred with bruises and tears.

"Please, help me." She whimpered.

He didn't think it through, as she pressed against him. His name was Fred Irwin, he was a new addition, according to the files, he had been assigned to guard the door.

"Goddammit, what happened to you? Come in!"

His inexperience made him trust her, a mistake.

Without waiting he pulled her inside the building and bypassed the detectors. He wasn't stopped by the officers, also engrossed by her piteous look. As he gently but firmly and quickly dragged her through the atrium she noticed from the corner of her eyes four of her Sisters being brought in, cuffed and escorted by several agents, they had all dyed their hairs raven and put on black lenses. With her 'makeup' and their own differences, they wouldn't be recognised as clones.

"Got some suspicious people there, they had weapons and all." Said one of the agents escorting them.

"Bring them to the interrogation room."

Then, above her, in one of the corridors of the upper floor, visible thanks to the grand glasses she saw Tsuchimikado, Styil and Kanzaki following a guide.

Just like the normal Edgar J. Hoover, the UIU headquarter could be visited up to a certain measure. After all, for most Portlandsers, it was a simple law enforcement agency, just like the FBI. The only requirement was being a Portlandser, which could be proven with an id card. And the Foundation had no shortage of those.

The Sisters, on the other hand, were under arrest for illegal weapon carrying and just being overall suspicious, their natural behaviour being too strange for the UIU to let pass.

She let out a slight smile. For now, it wasn't going so bad. They had decided to break up to be more flexible and would allow them to enact their plan as best as possible.


	25. Salvation

The Administrator took a deep breath before kneeling. He brought his face, ceremoniously near the water, before cupping some in his hand. He looked at his reflection. A walking corpse, he just lacked the rotting skin. His epidermis was crackled like a sand-less desert, the few strands of hairs remaining on his head were pitiful and his mouth was shallow, as some of his teeth had fallen.

It was incredible that he could still walk, he had taken a teleporter to get there but he still had a few difficult meters to make until arriving "here". "Here" was a small virgin clearing of soft lush grass surrounded by dark but regal trees. However, his eyes struggled to enjoy the spectacle.

However, he had to continue using this corpse for a bit. He had to. And that's why he was here.

He approached his cupped hand to his mouth and drank, eyes closed. The water was probably the best in the entire world, clear and fresh it rolled down his throat like baby Jesus in velvet pants. She really rubbed on him, he thought. The liquid was purging, refreshing but most of all, youthened him.

Indeed, his skin lost its creases, teeth grew back, and his hair began to replenish itself at an alarming rate. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and deeply exhaled. He looked once more into the clear water. He was still old. He may have regained some of his youth, he looked eighty instead of one hundred and two but was still old. That was normal. With him in this corpse, it was difficult for the Fountain of Youth to do its work.

But still, he knew that in two or three years he would be in the same state as he was a few seconds before. It would seem that the more time went on the faster his corpse was dying. He was getting old. Not the corpse, but himself, he was beginning to get too old. Drinking again would not help.

He sighed. If all went well, he wouldn't have to worry about-

His eyes widened. He had stepped back a good meter, in an instant. Without knowing it, or willing it. He did not remember what happened during this.

"What the...?" He grumbled. "Ah, too old." He sighed.

"Aren't we all, Milord?" Said a feminine voice.

He eyed the caped shadow with relieved eyes.

"Ah, Opera, how did it go?"

"As predicted, My Lord. The only news is that apparently, a Broken Church Arch-Ingeniator was a traitor, he was a Karcist, he could even transform." She informed him.

He nodded.

"Unexpected, I see. Oh, and did he go in with twins?"

His only answer was a gold coin tossed at him. He chuckled as he pocketed it while she sighed.

"I swear, how the hell does he keep doing that? The Initiative only employs male fighters and it was statically improbable that the Church would have sent twins."

"He lacked actual twins in that little band of his, I mean he does have the clones but he lacked that cliché."

" _Sérieusement_ , it will be weird if they fall for him, I mean it will be extremely weird. If he chooses one, it will be awkward and the other solution... well... I don't even want to think about it." She sighed.

"He literally has nine thousand clones and their original head over heels for him, it's nothing compared to that. And he doesn't even realize it... How do they call those heroes in... anime, is it?"

"In my lexicon, I call Touma a dense Hyppolitus." She shrugged. "Anyway... I have to drink." She said, heading to the small spring.

It was alimented by a small* waterfall which surged from the entrails of the earth before disappearing into a little stream who seemed to go back where it came from*.

She turned her back to him, before removing her hat, letting see a forest of grey and white hair. They quickly returned to their original colour. She turned at him, putting back the hat, and though she was still draped in her shadows as always, he could see her youthful face, his gaze unbarred by her arts, who normally blocked the view of all.

She looked exactly like when he met her, so long ago, he had first dismissed her as an eccentric and petulant young courtesan over her head, but she had revealed herself to have more depth than most petty baroness and countess. She hadn't abandoned the... reckless antics of her youth but that made her all the better, still herself after so many years, they were still friend, after centuries of exhausting... life. Truly, she was worthy of being his top agent. Well, she was also his best fighter and one of his best investigators, which played far more than any other factors.

"Mon cher Administrateur, I will leave you as I still have newfound youth to enjoy, as well as a friend to visit, until little Touma is back, goodbye!"

And just like that, she disappeared.

He smiled. No, she didn't change.

Well, he also had his own work to do.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

**[You are advised to play the song 'Tili Tili Bom' very quietly in loop until the sign [-]]**

The more they advanced, the more the house seemed to close on them. Touma felt like he was suffocating in there, he was not the only one. They ran for a good minute in the house, the number of dark spectres had quickly whittled down to null. It had been a few minutes since they were alone, walking in one of the darkest corridors of the house. However, they could still hear creaking around them.

The lamp's light, despite being nearly fully charged was dimmed and sometimes projected the shadows of things that weren't there. None of them talked, none wanted to utter words of either amiability or hostility. Touma and the twins swore they could hear a song, so quiet it was like it was fading away, only to reappear suddenly.

Finally, they found themselves in front of a simple door, nothing fancy, without a lock and with just a simple handle, and they had seen the light filtering below it.

"Wait a moment." Said Data before, carefully, putting her hand on the door.

She closed her eyes as her palm rested on the wood, she stayed like this, with a focused frown, before opening her eyes and speaking.

"There's no one in there." She announced.

She looked at Logika and Touma, seeking tacit approval to open the door, which they approved. Cannon out of her arm she swung open the door and scanned the room.

"Thanks, WAN, there's nothing." She sighed, stepping in the room, Touma and her sister following.

The room was a simple dining room, with a table in the middle and four chairs and some furniture around, once again, nothing fancy, it was the kind of large and solid wooden pieces of furniture one would expect from a farm dining room. There was another open door at the right, which lead to a yet unknown but lit part of the house. There was also another one who was closed at the left, this one was made of another wood, darker.

The lights were on, flooding the room with the more than welcome banisher of darkness.

"Look like someone lived here, and was here not long ago." Said Logika, pointing at the table and next to it.

Indeed, on the table were two services, with very little dust while on the floor, coming from the closed door to the right were traces of boot, with some mud. Logika crouched near it.

"It's rather fresh, maybe thirty, to forty minutes." She said.

"So, there would be two humans living here?" Asked Touma, with a septic tone.

"I agree with Kamijou here." Said Data.

Apparently, the red-robed adept took Touma's comment well but not her sister's. She whipped her head to look at her twin.

"Of course not." She huffed. "This mean that there is something wrong with the progression of time, let us see in the other room."

She began to head toward the opened door but stopped, startled like the others. The creaking noises were becoming louder.

"Let's hurry up." Said Touma.

They quickly inspected the kitchen. There was a pot on the gas, the water in it was still warm, and the ingredient next to it were still fresh. Once again, an opened door led to another door. They went in and began to walk, after two opened doors they finally arrived at a strange scene.

A small Orthodox altar, looked untouched. Then, slowly but then swiftly, the cross rotated by itself, pointing downward. Touma had seen enough horror movies to know what was going on. The eyes of the multiple saint's images began to bleed, dripping on the ground. And from it came back the spectres. One of them was swiftly shot dead. But they came even more numerous, like a wall of shifting shadows, hands pointed at their hearts.

"Rust! Let's get back to the dining room, they don't seem to go there." Proposed Logika.

For once Data didn't rebel and swiftly followed the two others as they began to race back to the dining room. The shifting shadows on their heels. As they sprinted, they swore they could hear disembodied and demented laughter, coming from the walls, the floors, the ceilings.

After passing a series of doors they found themselves back to the well-lit room. They all sighed in relief. For now, they were safe.

"Hmmm, I think we got problems." Said Data, pointing at the ceiling.

Last time Touma looked at it, that was three seconds ago, it was about three metres up. That number had reduced by a third. He also noticed that instead of the light wood, it had turned ebony black. The final detail, ceilings didn't have long, gaunt arms.

Fuck.

Then, the walls became the same, and the floor they were standing one. Taking out her arm cannon, Data aimed at the being at the floor while Logika, taking out a strange device of her own began to take care of those on the ceiling. The device was a large handheld cannon, heavily modified with the usual gears and steam as well as a small water tank. The water tank was connected to her back, under the robe, by a cord and there was a magazine of small silvers balls below the chamber of the cannon.

Upon squeezing the trigger, accompanied by a prayer, hot water steamed out of it, carrying multiple small silvers balls crashed on the unholy beings. However, to the great dread and disappointment of the three, the killing shadows didn't vanish in sulphur.

In fact, the shadows seemed stronger, more distinct, more present and solid. They backpedalled to a shadowed area which didn't have any shadows coming from the wood planks, just as dark and cold arms snaked in their legs, freezing their insides.

"Mekhane, protect this humble gear, an extension of your iron will, and preserve my unworthy remaining flesh from those who seek to harm me." Recited Logika.

" _01010111 01000001 01001110 00101100 00100000 01110011 01100001 01100110 01100101 01100111 01110101 01100001 01110010 01100100 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01110011 01100101 01110010 01110110 01100001 01101110 01110100 00100000 01100001 01101110 01100100 00100000 01100001 01101100 01101100 01101111 01110111 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101111 01101110 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01110010 01100101 01110000 01100101 01101100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100001 01100010 01101111 01101101 01101001 01101110 01100001 01110100 01101001 01101111 01101110 01110011 00100000 01100100 01100001 01110010 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01100001 01110011 01110011 01100001 01110101 01101100 01110100 00100000 01100001 00100000 01100010 01100101 01100001 01110010 01100101 01110010 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01101101 01101111 01110011 01110100 00100000 01101000 01101111 01101100 01111001 00100000 01110111 01101111 01110010 01100100 01110011_." Garbled Data in binary, faster than Logika spoke.

Touma didn't pray, rather focusing on how to get the hell out of it. The sick laughter grew in intensity, just like the number of silver bullets grew in numbers, despair fuelling trigger speed.

As the hands approached, Data whimpered, breaking her litany of prayers.

"Oh WAN, no."

This allowed the shadows to come even closer, dangerously so. Touma touched the attacking beings before they could but each needed at least a full second of physical contact with his hand before disappearing, leaving the stinking sulphur behind. But soon, the livings' arms soon contacted the unholy's.

This can't be the end, thought the three. Really, it couldn't be. They had so much to do. Logika and Data looked at each other, alert in their eyes.

"I'm sorry!" The two cried at the same time.

The laughter grew in intensity. But it was different, remarked Touma. Reminding himself that he was still alive, for he had closed his eyes, he looked at the beings. They had stopped, all looking at the left, like a unified collective. The lamps reassuringly litting the room were destroyed, plunging the surroundings in complete darkness, except for their torch.

"BEGONETH YOU FOUL BEINGS! OR BY ME I SHALLETH SHOVE MY HOLY VENGEANCE UP YOURS, YOU SHADOWY FUCKERS!"

[-]

The unholy beings got disinterested from the terrified three, focused on the newcomer, which could not be seen, due to the omnipresent black block of 'living' shadows.

"GET DOWN, FELLOW HUMANS!"

They didn't think twice, after all, it wasn't like it could get them in more dangers. An explosion rang, making them close their eyes, bullets, steel grinding, another explosion, laughter, a demented human one.

"COME HERETH YOU PATHETIC EXCUSES FOR DEMONS! ME VULT! ME AKBAR! ME ME SO SO!"

What?

They saw the tide of pitch black being leaving them to attack their saviour, who after several minutes still managed to keep battling. They watched, flabbergasted as their numbers melted, and soon the last one was swiftly beheaded by their saviour.

"TAKETH THAT THOU HEART RIPPING BASTARD! HAHAHA! ALL HAIL ME!" Loudly yelled the man, raising high his weapon, finally coming under the light of their torch.

It was a man, by the sound of his voice, dressed in a worn and tear down white cloak with a red cross, a white head cowl, hiding most of his face apart from his eyes, which reminded Touma of the Soheis, Japanese warrior monks. He held in his hand a long scimitar and in the other an engraved pistol, with the star of David, as well as various marks of different religions, in the form of pendants or others.

"SHALOM! HOWETH DO THY DO, BRAVE FELLOW HUMANS!" He shouted at them. "Oh, hm, how do you do? Brave fellow humans." He repeated, normally this time. "Lots of them, moreth than usual."

"W-w-who are you?" Asked Logika.

"NOT E- Not eventh a thank you? I am disappointed." He said, wiping a fake tear away. "But to answereth your question, it is me! God!" He shouted, striking a grotesque pose.

They remained silent for a little while.

"Blasphemy..." Whispered Logika, quietly.

"Blasphemy..." Repeated her sister.

"Oh no, another one..." Muttered Touma, though he himself was unsure whether he was talking about another crazy man, another fanatic, or maybe another actual god. He had had enough of them to last a lifetime and several others.

He eyed the crazy saviour with a wary eye, who knew what kind of thing this man could do... if he was even an actual human. With the kind of things going down here, he wouldn't be surprised.

"But do tell me, brave fellow humans, why ist thou hereth?"

While Touma wasn't a specialist of the English language he definitely knew the man was using the, as he called it, 'Pompous English-guy's grammar' wrong. He decided not to call it out, however, and he doubted the man would change his mind.

This train of thought was also the same for the two other girls.

"Not our choice." Revealed Data.

"Ah I seeth, I am glad to have found you before you wereth swarmed by the great tides of demons! Cometh young ones, for I knoweth a place where you can rest in security. Cometh! Cometh!"

And, without waiting for them, he strutted away, chanting some kind of African religious chant. Looking at each other, with doubt and worry, they finally decided to follow suit as the man stopped in his tracks and told them to come hither, dangerously waving his gun.

"Well, what are you waiting for! The Apocalypse? We areth already in it!"

They caught up to him, and he resumed walking, heading for the door to the left, the one previously closed. He must have come from here as it was open now. When they entered the new corridor, Data and Logika immediately noticed something.

The wood was much different. Instead of the light brown birch wood, this one was dark and made of oak. While woodwork certainly wasn't their forte, it was still studied in Techno-Theology mainly as a way to understand its inferiority, the danger of using it, but also its advantages, at least the ones the unenlightened found, as well as the impact it had on human technology.

They had studied the composition of the house during their travel to Ukraine, as a way to kill off the boredom, while avoiding talking to each other. There had been no mentions of such use of this wood, the entire house was made of birch.

They both frowned, their faces, extremely similar. Something was wrong here.

"Say... what is your name?" Began Touma.

"My nameth..." The man seemed lost for a moment, stopping dead in his track. "... It's... It's... It's" he muttered, his hands came to grip his head, clawing the scalp. Then he turned with a smile on his face. "Haha, you think you can pronounceth God's name? You mayeth call me God, fellow human."

And without further ado, he resumed his tranquil walk.

"Tell us... God, why do you call us fellow humans?" Questioned Logika, as his words seemed to defy logic.

"Hmmm, because I stilleth retain emotional bond to this raceth as I am still, for now, bound to this earthly shell." He explained. "But oneth day, I shall ascend to my true powereth! HAHAHAHA!" He laughed boisterously.

"Aren't you afraid to attract _them_ with that noise?" Whispered Data, looking around.

"The demons?! No, no, they hunt by the light, when you are in the light, they see your shadow, and when they are in the light, they grow ever stronger. Just like you saw, against those shadows, stay in them." He explained.

"What, shouldn't it be the other way around?" Asked Touma.

"No, no, for when there is only darkness, they cannot have their shadow, a shadow is only there when there is light, illuminating it. Without their shadow, the demons are weakened." He affirmed.

In the end, they decided to trust his explanations, after all, they indeed, were resistant to the bullets when in the living room.

They stopped at a crossroad between two doors, and 'God' sniffed the air before turning to the right.

"Do not feareth, I knoweth my way around here like the back of my hand." He declared with blind and utmost confidence, kicking down the door.

Without any other choice, the three followed the 'eth' misusing man. They continued their trek in the dark mansion, without any interference from the forces of darkness, though they heard some creaking one time or two, nothing happened. Maybe 'God' was scaring them, or something similar since fear was probably not an emotion they felt. If they felt anything at all.

Finally, after many twists and turns and even a small stair, which seemed to be about to fall in pieces, they arrived in front of a large bedroom.

"Welcometh to my grand Temple!"

The bedroom was very large, actually, it was composed of multiple rooms, he had destroyed part of the walls to make the bedroom bigger. It was connected to a small bathroom and another large bedroom. The two most interesting features were the king size bed as well as the collection of photos of him, they were awkward selfies of him striking some kind of supposedly heroic face using a Polaroid. The faces and poses he made, were, if one was honest either pathetic or comic.

Under the photos were various objects and actual food, in perfect condition, which was, if they guessed right, self-offerings.

"Seeth! The adoration of my devouts!" He proudly proclaimed with flourish movements.

The three winced but said nothing.

"Noweth, rest, rest. Then... we shalleth see. If you wanteth to talk to me then I shall be in the bathroom." And with this, he went to the bathroom, pulling a curtain to mask the view.

An awkward silence settled, and soon Data went to the other bedroom, without saying a word to her sister. Touma took a chair to rest his tired legs while Logika sprawled on the bed, her still fleshy part also tired from running.

As he stretched, he felt something hard poke his chest, thinking about it, he had felt it sometimes already, but in the heat of the moments didn't investigate. He opened the top of his suit and plunged his hand into one of the internal pockets and pulled out the offending object.

An envelope.

That envelope.

This goddam envelope.

His sudden stop made Logika raise an eyebrow, but he didn't register her reaction.

He looked at it.

He nearly died earlier.

Fuck it.

It was just a letter dammit. A letter. He was better than this.

Carefully, he opened it and took out the letter within. A simple white A4 paper, nothing special. He took a deep breath. He unfolded the letter, carefully and began to read.

_Dear Touma._

_I do hope this letter finds you well, for I will probably not be. As in dead. If I am not, stop reading immediately._

_So, I'm dead... it is strange to write this. I digress._

_To be brutally honest, my dear Touma, I fell in love with you_ _…_ _yes you read this right. I will not extend on the why and how, but I suppose your general personality was the reason._

_To be straightforward_ _for_ _a second time, if my observations are right then you are too_ _..._ _with me. If so, I do hope you moved on like any sane person. If you think you are at fault for my passing, stop. You are not. Each of us knows this, each of us accepts it, one way or another. We signed up, knowing that we would die_ _on duty one day or another_ _._

_I didn't sign up for monetary gain, or to escape something. I came here because I believed in this cause. So please, the only one to blame here is me._

_Also, as I said before if you are feeling guilt, remorse or simply sadness, I implore you to stop. I wouldn't want to see you like this, you cannot be like this. I am certainly not a seer, or a prophet or a goddam psychic but I know that the way to the future is paved with harsh challenges. As such, forget me, move on, and focus on being_ _you_ _and doing what you do best, saving the situation._

_I admit that I would have liked to know you better, and_ _to have gotten more intimate. However, fate isn't kind it seems. Even if we_ _had_ _had the tim_ _e,_ _we could have never be_ _en_ _together, to my deepest regret. Maybe in another dimension. They say there is an infinite number of them. Maybe.. w_ █ _m████ go█ █a████ d an█ ██ l..._ That entire part had been scribbled, but some letters were still readable.

_Anyway, this wasn't the case, as such, I tell you one last time, move on. To be fair, there's plenty of fish for you to catch, and most of them are literally fighting to get your hook. You dense idiot._

_As such, I wish you good luck in your future endeavours, and also for you to find back your freedom and your original world. Seriously, you deserve it._

_Truly yours, until death._

_Ansa Aho._

_PS: While I hope avenging me isn't going to be your top priority in life, if you can give the fuckers who did that a glorious ass-kicking, that'd be mighty fine._

_PPS: If you aren't actually in love with me sorry for those assumptions. This is embarrassing, burn this letter, please._

He smiled lightly as he finished reading the letter, folding it back and putting it back in his breast pocket. It had been some time since he smiled. He leaned back in the chair, finally relaxing muscles he didn't know had tensed.

Well, that wasn't so bad, he should have done it earlier. Hearing someone saying it wasn't his fault wasn't really helpful, but this? A lot more. And, while he did still have some guilt left, he felt a weight taken off his chest. Talking about it, then reading this... He needed it. After all, it wasn't really his fault, right? It was their fault, the faults of those who killed her. They would face retribution in due time.

What did she say about fish fighting for him? He wasn't a fisher, was that supposed to be a metaphor? He had already been called a dense idiot before, but the reason still escaped him. He may not have been brilliant in academic but he wasn't that dim... Or was he?

He inquired about it at Logika, precising this was coming from a friend. She looked at him with raised eyebrows, first wondering who the hell would fight for him before repeating Ansa's words.

"Dense idiot. This is late stage denseness." She muttered.

He sighed, before finally steeling himself. Enough of being some kind of sad useless sack, he had things to do, yes, no time for such things. There was no looking behind, only looking the present and the future. Yes, he would move on and stop such things to happen again, he would save the other three, even that crazy 'God', he would save the Initiative's men, yes he would save people, he had to.

Something, out of topic, still weighed on his mind, however, why such hostility between the two sisters? They hadn't talked or even looked at each other ever since 'God' had stormed the room to save them. He decided to inquire about this by asking Logika.

"Say... Logika, what's the problem between your churches, is that it?"

She stayed silent for a few seconds, collecting her thoughts, before speaking.

"Some time, during the Industrial Revolution -you can situate that, right?-, there was a schism between my people and the Church. You see, the Church does not allow everyone to... fully convert, yes you can pray and all, but can you be like our God, like Mekhane, can you turn your weak flesh into strong steel. No, you couldn't. The Church stayed too attached to the old traditions, stopping the faithful to reach a much-deserved state. With new technologies came new possibilities, finally, we could be free from the restraints of the Church! Finally, we could venerate Mekhane and be closer to him than ever! Just as he was gears and pulleys we were too! We the Cogwork Orthodoxes are the closest to the glorious form of Mekhane! And united, we shall reassemble Him and bring an end to the great enemy and pave humanity's way to glory and eternal life!" As she progressed in her speech, she became more and more fiery, taking the tone of a virulent sermon.

"Very well..." Muttered Touma. "But what about the others, the Maxwellists, was it?"

She shrugged with nonchalance.

"Just fools, who think plastic is the way forward."

"How close-minded, you Ticker, I can't say this surprise me." Came Data's voice.

She had heard the discussion and had decided to join in. Her cold gaze was fixated on her sister, who returned it with her own smoke-coloured ones.

"We Maxwellists have recognised that the future is not rusted metal or grinding gears but flexible and reliable silicon and computers. The way forward is not the past, but the future, the true technologies who will bring humanity peace, prosperity and durability. Isn't that true? Aren't computers the future, Artificial Intelligence, programs, virtual realities the new frontiers? We are the brave pioneers who shall expand mankind's horizon! We shall be free from the dictates of the Church, free from the cumbersome steel, free in the great linkage of mankind to WAN! The Great Numerical Resurrection of our Broken God shall be the crux to human woes."

She finished her passionate tirade, looking at him expectantly as if he was going to convert immediately.

"Ha! What kind of speech is that? I understand why you're so few! Hahaha." Mocked Logika.

"Go rust your gears! You didn't do better, you're too messy, all over the place!" Accused Data.

"Alt Delete yourself, traitor!" Growled Logika.

"I may be a traitor but I'm not some dumb metal bucket!"

The insults flying in the room impressed Touma by their level of originality, no really, he had never heard such things. Who in their right mind would say that? A normal person's response to such injury might have been just annoyance and incomprehension or maybe even humour to such delirious expressions, but by the way, those two were acting, it was evident that those words carried an incredible amount of rancour and hurtful meaning. One could, of course, identify this by the hostile tone the two used. As long as those two didn't get physical he was just going to lay back, too tired for this feud.

"Who do you think is right?" Asked Data, soon mirrored by her sister.

Uh?

He felt their intense and questioning gaze on him. Fuck. He didn't want it to degenerate like that. He sighed, there was no way out, he guessed. Fukou da. Oh, that had been some time since he last said that. Not that he actually lacked bad luck during the latest weeks.

He eyed them. Taking a side would probably worsen things, and he doubted he could reconcile them, just like that. For now, the status quo would do, just to stall things.

"Can't say I can actually judge, I don't even know that Mekhane or WAN guy." He sighed.

"Then, it shall be my honour to explain it to an unenlightened." Declared Logika, hoisting her halberd high. "You see, a long time ago, when stars were nothing but specks of dust and when the universe was cold and dark, came two beings, two brothers. Mekhane and Yaldabaoth. Yaldabaoth gave life to humans, plants and animals, he gave them instincts, feelings and their forms. Mekhane, on the other hand, gave humans the fire of knowledge, he gave them logic, the ability to understand facts and data. But most of all to transform it, to better their conditions and themselves. But Yaldabaoth, seeing one of his proudest creation thrive and as time went on, give up on its instincts, on its backward origin became jealous. In a fit of rage, he tried to wipe off humanity, at least those who didn't follow his precept, he tried to take away the knowledge of human beings. Heaven and earth clashed. In the end, Yaldabaoth was beaten back and imprisoned within Mekhane, though this one was broken, into multiple pieces, scattered across the world. The situation here was the same, our great cult, spanning the known world was shattered, broken, a husk of its past self, but the enemy had been repelled into far off and secluded plains, even more damaged and fractured than us. And this, is the story of how the world was created, of who Mekhane is, and why we are not already in a utopia. To this day we are still fighting them. But we shall reach such a state when we gloriously reassemble Mekhane!"

"And this is where we diverge." Intervened Data. "We think that physical reassembling is a waste of time. Mekhane, or rather WAN, can be brought back by linking the mind of every single human together, and thus with everyone's participation, bring back our god in a digital way!"

Touma didn't understand shit, mainly about Mekhane or WAN. First, what kind of god just broke apart? How the hell could bringing pieces of metal together form an actual honest to, well, god, god? And that wasn't even talking about the weird digital god... what the hell?

He knew one god, Othinus, she had never spoken about them. Well, not that they had the time or envy to do so.

"Do you mean like a hive mind?" He asked Data.

"No, not really, just a part of our calculating power should be enough, if everyone helps, to give back its strength to WAN. But each shall remain as they are mentally."

Oh, a bit like the Sister's network then. Though this sounded more like pseudoscience, he decided to let it slide, after all, he knew worse cases. And with everything paranormal, well, this probably wasn't so farfetched.

"Digital reassembling... I never heard such idiocy in my life." Chuckled Logika.

"What do they say, ah yes, 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic', sorry to be too advanced for you." Came Data's biting response.

"You dare..." Gritted the Cogwork Orthodox. "Should I remind you that our science is sure and has been thoroughly tested, not like you quagmire of a numerical network!"

Oh, Mekh- WA- god, they were at it again, quick, he had to find something to say, just to stall for a bit. Oh no, they took their weapon out, oh no, oh no, quick, something!

"Hey! What about the Broken Church?!" He asked

The two stopped, to answer him.

"They are the original church." Began Data, withdrawing her blades. "They are led by the Rebuilder, Robert Bumaro. They are here since the antiquity if I recall correctly."

"Indeed, and they are elitists, they think only people who have 'proven' themselves can fully convert and replace their useless flesh with strong steel or lead." Sighed Logika, clutching her fist dramatically.

"Lead..." Data rolled her eyes. "... Such an out of date material, silicon and plastic are better, less frightening than cold and harsh metals."

"Well, let's ask the unenlightened." She pulled back her sleeve, showing her metallic coppery arm. "Between mine and hers, what's best? What would you rather have?"

Data pulled up hers, showing an arm, that was closer to a human one, though it was evidently silicone rather than skin, surrounding the flesh.

"Well-uhm- I uh..." He stuttered.

While Logika's arm was rather strange, it was still pretty damn beautiful and also straightforward, on the other hand, Data's was closer to actual human skin, a big positive point for him, but it felt bizarre. It was too human, without being it, if he remembered this phenomenon was called the uncanny valley.

But that wasn't the point, he had to maintain the status quo.

"What's inside?" He questioned, stalling with despair.

He regretted asking that. Both of their arms opened to let see the inside.

Logika's arm was horrifyingly complex machinery made of lead and copper, it was composed of so many parts he doubted he could cite them, with dozens of ticking small gears, springs, pulleys and other things.

Data was the same, but with wires, printed circuits, cooling liquid and small fans which turned with a humming sound while projecting blue lights, extremely visible in the darkened room.

He did not want to have any of it... Be he still had to answer, he realized as he felt their eyes bore into him, expecting a response which would advantage them.

"W-what about combining both?" He proposed with a weird smile, a little drop of sweat running down his temples.

The silence which followed was heavy, and not at all soothing as he had hoped to.

It was finally broken by Data's laugh.

"Co-combining? You make a good comedian Kamijou! Haha."

Her sister soon joined in, despite trying to stifle it.

"Haha, combining it, pff, do you imagine, electronic gears? Haha!" She surprisingly addressed her sister.

"Or leaded silicone, haha!"

The two continued to exchange what they considered to be jokes, though it made no sense for Touma. But as they progressed, they lost their mirth, then their smile and soon they were looking away. Silence fell. Now, Touma didn't know what he preferred, when they shouted or when they stayed in this awkward and bothering silence.

Thankfully it was broken by 'God', who after finishing whatever he was doing came in the room and began to talk, oblivious to the heavy atmosphere.

"Ah, fellow humans! I do hopeth you have rested well! Howevereth, something still troubles me. Why areth you here?" He asked.

Touma took this quite literally godsent opportunity to change the direction of the now dead conversation.

"Ah, we were supposed to simply enter the house and just get out, but we were trapped here... so well, we are trying to find a way out."

The strange man looked at them for a moment before shaking his head.

"Unfortunatelyth, fellow humans, there is no exit to this place." He revealed. "I haveth been touring this place for years... if not decades... or maybe it was just a day..." The man began to lose himself in hushed mutterings.

"God?" Called Touma, shaking the man from his self-talk.

"Oh, yeseth, there may be a way, however." He said, perking everyone's attention. "It is very dangerouseth. Thou must reach the Bleak Heart."

"The Bleak Heart?" Asked Data, the name not inspiring any confidence.

"Yes, it is whereth the demons come from and goth back to depose their hunts." He solemnly revealed. "I knoweth where it is located, for I haveth once guided a man, D-19... D-Something a-"

"D? As in D class?" Interrupted Touma, prompting an annoyed look from 'God'.

"Yes, indeed, a member of the D class, do you know that man?"

"No, I didn't know the Foundation had already sent people in." Replied Touma, eyes drifting.

"You are from the Foundation!?" Exclaimed 'God', flailing his arms losing his countenance.

"Well, he is, not us." Intervened Logika, pointing at Touma.

"Really? You don't looketh like the MTF type, not even 'Choir Boys' even less 'Sequires Nos'." Stated the mad man, lurking around Touma.

"I- I'm not, how do you know about MTFs?"

"Well, fellow human, I waseth an MTF in the past. Before I ascended." He revealed.

"What? Really?!" Inquired Touma with shock.

When had this happened? He didn't recognise a single clue which could have helped him identify him as an actual MTF.

"God, MTF Chi-13 'Choir Boys', and the only known survivor of the expedition into SCP-1983." He re-described himself, losing the flourish he had in his voice, adding a small salute. "Here, got proof." He dug in a small sack nearby and took out a silver pin representing the Foundation sigil with inside two hands, joined in prayer. "Been some time since I saw another Foundation..." He trailed off. "Well, not one who's a corpse... If you aren't a D or an MTF, what are you? Agent or skip?"

"Skip."

"I see, strange but alright. What do you do?" His voice had definitely lost the pompous tone he used before, becoming steely, zealously militarist.

"I... erase the supernatural."

"Oh?" Said 'God', with a raised eyebrow. "Interesting. Then maybe..." He trailed off once more before his voice retook the tone he used before, full of pride and pomp. "Maybe, you areth the chosen one, my fellow human! Whereth D-Something failed you may suceedth. You seeth, the Bleak Heart, according to my observations is directly linkedth to the demons, if one was to totally destroy it then this scourgeth may be stopped forevermore. Gahahaha, you shalleth be my champion! You threeth prepare yourself for a trip into hell's pit!"

With this he departed back into his bathroom, to do whatever he did, leaving the three alone once again.

"Hell's pit, uh? Fukou da." Muttered Touma.

"I hope this will get us out of here." Whispered Data, her sister agreeing with an imperceptible nod.

They could only hope.

After a few minutes, 'God' came back, bearing a new duffel bag slung across his back.

"Alrighteth, fellow humans, are you ready to go?"

They answered by the positive, eager to get out of this hellhole. Touma hoped this small pause hadn't jeopardized the other's group chances of survival.

"Then, it is time to finish this." He declared, drawing his scimitar and placing it before his eyes, then wiped it at the side. "Stay closeth to me, or you may lose yourself in this unending mess."

Finally, they departed from 'God's' lair, following the strange man, who had become their only hope. The corridors were, as always, dark and creaking, the wood seemed alive.

"Don't worry, it isn't a longeth way to it." He assured them.

They continued their trek, taking turn and twist, never attacked by the strange being, though 'God' sometimes looked behind, his eyes losing themselves in the darkness before continuing. The more they approached the more the creaking intensified. Rot. It had been a smell so present that Touma and the others had gotten used to it, but it came back in greater intensity, insidious.

But there wasn't only rot, but also the smell of sulphur, akin to spoiled eggs, tainted the air with malevolence. They also encountered several corpses along the way. The bodies were dressed in religious clothing, though some lacked part of it, like a tunic, a head-cowl or sometimes a weapon. Their eyes were shot open in a clear show of terror while their bodies remained crisp, and mouth wide open in a scream of silent terror.

Interestingly, their pale bodies had no wound, not the slightest hint that could presume violence, it was like they all had a heart attack. 'God' explained that they just tore out the hearts, phasing through the flesh like ghosts, before departing and bringing it back to the Bleak Heart.

Touma, to break the monotone and frightening ambience spoke.

"God? How did you survive? Seems hard to do so here." He questioned.

The man thought about it for a moment before answering.

"I am God! Of courseth that I survive, demonic hordes are nothing for me, and I do not feelth the need to eat or drink!" He explained with a bashful smile. "But... The house hath changed since not long ago." He observed with a frown "Sometimes, it feels liketh the wood is flesh. What doth you think?"

Touma had absolutely no idea what the man was talking about, but apparently, the twins had something in mind.

"There was a Karcist, maybe he has something to do with it." Proposed Logika.

"Ah. I see. It does make sense." Admitted 'God'.

"What's a Karcist?" Asked the SCP.

"Heretics." Seethed both twins.

"They are our arch-nemesis." Added Data.

"Do you remember Yaldabaoth? They are his servants, obsessed by the weak flesh." Growled Logika. "The man... No! Traitor, who threw us here is one."

Ah, yes, that man. He had seen the Arch-Ingeniator come at great speed, some parts of him inhuman, before he slammed the Initiative's soldiers around, making the door close forevermore.

"Shhh, we're nearly here." Whispered 'God'. "Look and be silent."

There was a small opening in the room they were in, Touma poked his head and looked. There was a great number of shadows, frozen, still, like standing dead. They filled the room below, like a regiment of solider, standing at attention, awaiting their master's bidding. It reminded him of the great Chinese Terracotta army who watched over the eternal slumber of their emperor. If they had one, he didn't want to meet him.

"We'll have to fight our way through, the Bleak Heart is just a corridor after." Indicated their guide.

They followed him as he climbed downstairs, before stopping in front of a door. His years as MTF kicked in and he signed to give his order. While Touma wasn't a specialist he understood the gist of it. They needed to get on the left side of the door while he would kick it down, do something and then enter right in.

He told so to the other girls, though it seemed they had understood. They positioned themselves as ordered and 'God' opened his duffel bag, taking out what looked like two homemade grenades before counting to three and then kicked the door.

"I PROTECTETH MYSELF!" He yelled, throwing the two explosives inside.

He slammed the door shut as two detonations rocked the room, before opening it back up.

"GOTH! GOTH! GOTH!" He shouted.

Ignoring the comic of the order, Touma stormed in the room, the three others on his heels. A good part of the beings had been reduced to piles of sulphurs by 'God's' silver fragmentation grenade, but it still left many to fight.

His right fist slammed into one of the shadows, making it crumble into yellow crystals. The others soon followed, either reaped apart by Logika's halberd, picked apart by Data's wrist gun or cut in pieces as 'God's' sword cut them apart in fluid motions.

The room was cleared in barely a minute, after all, it wasn't that large.

"Last time I was hereth there were a lot more." Observed their guide.

Of course, whenever someone had to say something positive, something negative had to happen just to say 'fuck you' to Touma. He had learned through the years to avoid being too hopeful, but it seemed his misfortune plagued everyone. Fukou Da.

Like the damn swarm, the shadows came, in great numbers, phasing through each other as every surface began to crawl with them, and soon they bloated everything, surrounding them in an aggressive sphere of deadly darkness. Amidst the dreadful vision, 'God's' laughter rang, a burst of crazed laughter which even stopped the advancing shadows.

"HAHAHA! THIS IS GREATEH! SO MANY DEMON TO PURGETH! HAHA! You three! I shall clear you a way to the Bleak Heart! I shalleth stall them! Go!"

"You're going to die!" Shouted Touma. "I can't let y-"

"YOU THINK GOD CAN DIETH?! FOOLISH MORTAL! I SHALL PROVE YOU WRONGETH! THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCETH GO!"

He took out three other grenades from his duffel back which he threw at the mass behind, muttering a prayer to himself. In seconds it was cleared, allowing a clear way to the corridor leading to the Bleak Heart. Touma hesitated but he was pulled by the twins who rushed to it. He closed his eyes and accepted this fate.

Sometimes, people had to die. But he would make damn sure this wouldn't be useless.

"Hold on! We'll save you!" Shouted Touma as he entered the corridor.

The man threw them a last look, eyes sparkling with amusement and thrill.

"GO FORTH MY CHAMPION!" He shouted before the mass of shadow blocked his form.

As they ran to the last door, they could still hear the sound of battle and the demented prayer he addressed to himself. They looked one last time, before slamming open the door leading to this bleak heart.

They entered the pitch-black room. The stench was horrible, it was everywhere, it seemed they stank of it, it hurt, like thousands of small stings in the nose. Touma bowed and emptied his stomach, the odour being that potent. Beyond the simple rot, it smelled like evil, just pure and unbridled violence, hate, greed and sadistic glee.

Soon, light filtered from newly appeared lamplights on the ceiling, after all, shadows needed light. The newly appeared light revealed a very large room, like a barn and a mass grave. Not of corpses but of hearts. Hearts littered the room, forming a pile, twice as tall as Touma, of ripped out organs. The mountain of harvested parts pulsated, moving at a steady rhythm. No. The hearts were beating, still animated, forming an impossible choir of squelching contractions. Thousands if not millions of flies, bloated, flew around the pile while fat white maggots shivered and crawled through the pile.

Logika and Data, who had for now retained their steely composure broke down in a fit of throw up, the contents of their stomach staining the floor.

On top of the mountain was something. It had the form of giant heart of malicious red gleaming pulsating just like the hearts that formed its throne. Inside was a pitch-black core exuding everything that made this place and the shadows inhabiting it what they were.

That was surely the Bleak Heart.

Touma, taking a deep breath, took his courage in both hands and raced toward the pile of hearts, trying to attain the Bleak Heart. He felt his shoes burrowing in the undead flesh, he slipped on the wet material and his fingers dug in the greasy, warm and beating hearts. He grimaced as he unintentionally squeezed the slippery organs.

He continued his desperate climb, followed by the two religious. Spectres came, trying to reach them phasing through walls. The hearts fell under his feet, the body parts falling below. He gritted his teeth as something came from the heart, a cloud of black smoke swooped on them like a volcano's pyroclastic cloud, violent winds nearly made them fly, scattering many hearts in the room. The lights were hidden by the cloud.

Touma cried in pain as he felt something in his mind, he saw eyes, red like burning blood. He saw Ansa's death, he saw her fall to her death while accusing him, blaming him as her skin and her eyes rotted, leaving her a skeleton. No. NO! He would not be tamed like that. He was better than that, he would not fall to such cheap trick, he had moved on. And he wouldn't let this thing use her like that.

He touched his head with his hand, dispelling whatever affected him. He looked around to see the storm of darkness surrounding them, but not touching them. From it came the shadows, ready to pick them apart and add their heart to the pile.

Speaking of 'them', which encompassed him and his two companions, he looked at the two below. Logika was curled, squeezing hearts in her hands to the point of crushing it.

"No! Don't go! No! NO! COME BACK! DATA!"

"Please, forgive me! I didn't want to hurt you! I just wanted a better life for us all. I love you.." Was the twin's sobbing.

The two had been attained by the storm and were evidently, reliving painful and modified memories, immersed in them to the point of confusing them with reality. If he left them there, they would get killed. He had to save them.

He rushed to Data, nearly slipping on the pulsating organs, difficultly reaching the sobbing girl. He kneeled, or tried to, to get at her face's level and gently touched her head. Breaking glass. Her teary eyes shot up, meeting his steely one's. Her mouth froze in an expression of surprise.

"Come, your sister needs help!"

She broke out of her trance and rushed to her sister, bypassing Touma.

"Gigi!" She cried out, grasping her sister by the collar. "I'm here, I'm here!"

But to no avail, the twin was still in the world of nightmare, her hands clawing at her sister while she repeated the words over and over, eyes firmly shut.

"YOU BASTARDS!" Yelled Data, two appendages jutting from her back.

Those were thinning whips made of silver which began to move at incredible speeds, reaping the things in the air. The things were disappearing, as the tendrils cleaved through them. But her words were not of faithfulness. No, they were about her and her sister. She swore to protect her, she swore to never abandon her, rage and worry in her voice.

Touma appreciated the diversion and headed straight to the still curled up Logika, his hand cupping her temples. She opened her red and teary eyes, looking at them with shock.

"Let's move, your sister is buying us time." He told her.

"I won't let you touch my twin." Roared said sister.

Mouth agape, Logika watched her usually cold sister defend her with conviction and determination. Her look turned into a frown, she got up swiftly and headed toward the fight.

"Go to the Heart, we'll cover you." She yelled, joining her sister in the battle.

The two fought with a certain grace, two beacons of hope and faith amidst the a sea of darkness, pushing back the ungodly tide, shoulder to shoulder.

He turned away, scrambling as fast as he could to the Heart. He nearly fell twice but kept going and then, with a last dash, jumping on the tumbling hearts, his hand touched the Bleak Heart.

" _ **Į̴̛̯̦͉͈͈̹̾̅̀̏́̄͑̅̇͗̓̋̏͝͝M̸̡̱̟̗̤͙̭̩̫̠͔͇̹̻̯̳͎̦͙͗̀̊̄̅͜ͅA̵̺͔̻͚̻̥̤͐̂̂͂̀͒͌͗̓͋̎͌͋̇̂̓̉̕͝͠Ģ̴̨̦͇̬͎̜̥͚͍̱͈̼͈̬͛͊̉̀͌̈̽I̵̛͙̘͂̄̀̔̌̑̆͊̿̚͝N̴̢̢̙̞̰̠̥͍̪͖̰͕͂̅͒̓̄̈́͑̓͗̅̽̂̉̏̉̕͠͠͝͝ͅͅͅẼ̴̘͚̗̗̠̦̪̣̲̉̈́͒̀͂͊͂̎̆͛̌̏̈́̒̽̽̎͠͠ ̴̧̭̻͕̺̬̬̙̫̩̲̗̹͚̳̙̫̣͓̭̩͛̆̔̈́̒̌̀̓̾̉̓̇͘͘B̶͍̐̀̊̒̆̓͝͝R̷̢͇̣͈̞͈̠̲͎͚͚̬̬̥̭͚̹̻̹̅́̈́̄̍̐̀̊͝E̸̡̢̡̳͔̜͓̤̣̭̟͙̼͍̼̖̫̒̐͋̊̾͋͑Ä̴͖̻̞̪̂̀̈́̄̅̈́̊̽̂̊͒̎͂̈́̉̑̈́̕͜͝͠ͅK̶̭̮͎͉̙̜̠̤̩͎̱͉̇͗͌̋̑̐́̾E̷̛̯͎̖̝̞̊̍͆̽́̀̋͊̾̋̿͝ͅŖ̶͍̥͉̼̬̟̹͉̳͕͍̟͚̭̗̼̈̅̈́̆̄͒͌͛̆!"**_

_**The Gleaming Red Eyes.** _

He gasped as he felt the hearts below his feet disappear, and for a moment, he felt himself stand still in the air, the dark and starry sky welcomed him. And then he felt his body fall. Fukou da. It was going to be a good five-metre fall, that was going to hurt. A lot.

The air whistled but before anything could happen, gentle but cold and hard tendrils collected him, saving him from a bone breaking land. His feet slowly touched the ground. He sighed with relief and eyed the approaching sisters.

"Are you alright?" Questioned Data, retracting the whips back into herself.

Logika remained silent but she did not hide the concern in her normally imperious eyes.

"Yes, yes, thank you, you two." He replied with a wide smile.

They were about to reply when a cry rang out.

"HAHAHA! WELL DONETH!"

"God!" Shouted Touma, pushing past the two sisters.

A dozen metre away, 'God' was lying on the ground, raising his sword to the sky, laughter filling the air. Running to the man, he scrambled to his side, the fanatic turned his head, looking at the SCP.

"HAHA, WELL DONETH MY FAITHFUL!" He gleefully shouted. "YOU HAVETH TRIUMPHED OVER THE EVIL BEASTS!"

"Yes, let's go." Smiled Touma.

The man's smile froze, turning cold and mirthless.

"I doubt I can." He said, with a jerk of his head.

This movement pointed at something, his heart, lying next to him.

"No..." Muttered Touma, eyes wide like saucers.

No... They hadn't worked this hard for this. No...

"There, there, young man." Whispered the dying 'God'. "Just as you and your friends did." He indicated Logika and Data, who also kneeled next to their saviour. "Your faith, whatever it is, will guide you forward, believe... believe in what you know is best. I did... you did... Have faith." He addressed the three, before closing his eyes. "It's been long since I felt cold... or sleepy... You know what, even God deserve a little nap... One last thing... there... there should be a Foundation post to the east..." His voice was strained, slurred. "Wel... come to... Wyoming... good... luck."

His body tensed, and then nothing. Touma released the hand he didn't know he was holding. He exhaled, looking at the ground, sadly. His two companions observed a respectful silence, slowly gesturing mortuary religious signs.

"Sorry." Muttered the young SCP.

He took the deceased in his arms, from afar one could have confused the two for a young couple, carrying the other like a princess, but the reality was morbid.

"To the east." He said, walking toward somewhere.

"This is the west." Said Logika, producing an old compass, and verifying with the Northern Star.

He departed, a man in his arms, his ripped-out heart on the dead man's chest, twins to his side, back to the setting sun.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Come here young lady, come, come." Incited the UIU officer.

Misaka Mikoto had been following the man for some good minutes, passing by office workers and other agents, some who had robotic parts of even animals sometimes. Speaking of them, she felt them being a bit flustered or startled whenever she passed next to them, the faint electric field she emitted still bothering them, just like actual animals.

Finally, she was guided to one of the secluded meeting room, or rather 'soft interrogation' room, with a simple table and some chairs and a closet to conduct either a small reunion or a non vnon-violentrrogation. The officer closed the door behind them, told her to sit at the table before turning to pick up a chair.

He never saw the electricity dance from her hands before a small thunderbolt lashed out at him, like a snake, biting him in the neck. He fell on the ground without a cry, she caught him before he hit the floor, and eyed the door with apprehension. She dragged him to the closet and put him there. At least they had equipment for violent prisoners. She took two pairs of handcuffs, encasing his wrists and his ankles before gagging him.

"My, aren't you becoming ruthless, good actor no less." Squeaked Othinus from her hiding place, Mikoto's handbag.

The goddess had grown taller, now nearly twice as tall she was before, when they arrived in this world. She only replied with a little smile, as the goddess returned in the bag. Her time would come later.

She took the man's badge, which she slipped in the bomber jacket she was wearing. She looked around, nothing had been activated, good. In those rooms, there weren't cameras, as to not have physical evidence of what happened, as to disprove if anything went off the rail.

The alarm would only activate if the scanner, a black dome on the ceiling, with a red tinge, detected someone in the room without a badge, it didn't matter if others lacked it, there was simply the need of one badge in the room. And if they were right, the scanner wouldn't detect the agent in the closet, thus allowing her to then leave the room without any trouble.

The good thing about large buildings was that most had a major HVAC system, or Heating, Ventilation and Air Conditioning system, large enough to allow a small human to pass through, and for the first time Misaka fully appreciated her stature. "Ah take, that Shokuhou! You wouldn't have passed!" She thought as she opened the vents, silently removing the grid with her electromagnetic control before sliding into it, still using her powers.

Indeed, the ventilations were narrow, she had a little space to move, she realized as she began to levitate forward, putting back the grid. Indeed, instead of crawling, which would alert the UIU workers, and would greatly jeopardize the mission.

She smirked as she heard a building-wide announcement.

" _Mr Nero is asked to come with his map at office three-fourth."_

The announcement was certainly nothing out of the ordinary, but it was according to their mole inside of the UIU the signal to announce an attack, without creating panic for the visitors. Good, that was all going as planned, for now. She heard below her hushed whispers and hurried footsteps as agents rushed to designated places and the cause of the disturbance.

Good luck you three, she thought before continuing her levitation through the maze of vents. One may wonder why she wasn't detected by the scanner within the ventilation system. The answer, may draw a certain morality, was simply the lack of fund. While the UIU had over the time, reinforced their positions, to defeat any intruder, but budget cuts were budget cuts, and so, they installed the exact same scanner, which only alerted whenever someone was not wearing the conform badge. This had been a cheaper option, as they had received a huge discount, in as a commercial gesture, being some of the only people buying the device while ordering it in great number.

As such, her agent badge was enough to let her crawl through the vents without alerting anyone. Soon she found herself in front of a chute, that went down a good dozen metres below, if not more. She put her hands on the side of it, and let herself fall slowly and gracefully, feet first, controlling herself thanks to her powers. Softly, her feet touched the bottom, and she sighed as a sign of relief.

She levitated through the final part of the ventilation near a grid, she also slowly removed it, first twisting off the bolts before making sure nothing would fall, she levitated it to let her pass. However, she heard someone approach, and she brought it back.

It was two guards, who were walking at a leisurely pace while talking to each other. She smiled, maybe it was her chance, with everything going on, she doubted the CCTV watchers would be focused on her position, especially if there were no alert.

Just as they passed her, she slowly opened the grid, before jumping out of her hiding place, two lightnings and they were sleeping. She rushed to their sides, took their cards, opened a room just next to it, a small holding cell in which she threw them, but not before taking the cap off of one of them. Her jacket did resemble one of theirs and with their cap she would pass of as one of them, at least to the eyes of someone watching from afar, behind a screen. She took both of their cards, and badges, leaving them alone in the cold cell.

She took a small map out of her jacket, it was more a collection of arrows and crosses, which allowed her to navigate through the dark grey oppressive halls. She didn't meet any more guards, apparently, they were either at the high security block, where Touma was supposed to be, or guarding the entrances, and not the corridors.

For now, her objective wasn't the high security block, but it was close to it. Finally, after some running, she ended up where she wanted, the heavy interrogation room. Here, people who were suspected of dangerous things or just suspected of being too dangerous were put here, without locking them up in the high security block.

The two guards at the entrance were electrified before they could do anything, they fell like ragdolls. She took on their cards and opened the door to the inside.

"LAST CH- Hey! What ar-?" The interrogator looked away from his subjects.

Behind him were four people, clones, looking the exact same as her. However, two of them had bruises on their cold and inexpressive face, one even had a black eye. Misaka saw red. A powerful discharge of electricity sent the man screaming to the ground, still conscious. The three guards next to him were also knocked out before any could take out their weapons.

"WHO THE H-?"

He could have said anything before a kick shut him up.

"That's for hurting them!"

A quick shocking finally neutralized him and she turned her heavy breathing self toward her sisters, looking a bit ashamed at her lack of control. That wasn't an exemplary attitude to take before her little sisters.

Nevertheless, she had things to do. She took a final key card from the interrogator and with it, removed the cuffs, shackling her clones.

"Thank you Onee-sama. Says Misaka as Misaka rubs her sore wrists." Thanked 10032.

"Are you alright?" Asked Mikoto to the two sisters who had received bruises, 10039 and 10055.

They replied by the affirmative, before taking back their equipment, stored into a nearby locker. Misaka breathed in, it was going to be the most important part. They exited the room, swiftly heading toward the high security block. The five guards composing the checkpoint were on the receiving end of a terrible assault. Four fell to sleeping dart, fired by the Sisters while the last one, who was in a bulletproof checkpoint was tasered to unconsciousness when Misaka directed her current through the metal door of the checkpoint, before it hit the man.

But the alarm rang as several others guards, hearing the commotion tried to contain them. Bullets pinged against walls, or hovered, stopped by a strong electromagnetic current. Many were neutralized by rapid and precise bursts of incapacitating dart.

However, an officer, judging by the way he shouted orders, received a rubber bullet right into his stomach, and then his knee. As he fell on the ground, coughing he felt electricity dress his hairs upright. He saw lightning dance around him, and a small but menacing figure, was that a fucking schoolgirl?

"Where is Kamijou Touma?!"

He replied nothing, though his brain tried to find whoever that person.

"Let me speak with him Sparky." Came a voice, full of malign amusement.

"Go easy on him, Othi-chan." Replied an equally amused voice.

"Oh, I can't promise anything, especially since you called me like that. Continue, I'll contact you whenever he tells me something."

"Hai, hai." Said Misaka departing, with her four Sisters.

Still curled on the ground, clutching his painful parts, the officer saw a tall doll of about thirty centimetres with what he considered to be an extremely revealing outfit for such a toy. But it wasn't one, he soon realized as a cold smile found its way on the doll's face, and the red eyepatch on her eyes shone.

"Let's talk."

He felt cold sweat drip down his self and his tongue, miraculously, wasn't tied by duty after a few minutes with her.

"Sparky." Came Othinus mental voice. "There is no Kamijou Touma here or Imagine Breaker."

Misaka frowned as she ran through the halls, letting her electrical sense, acting as a very short-range radar, tell her whether this room or another was occupied. Most of them were empty.

"We just have to keep searching, he may simply not know it." She thought back.

Othinus sent her an affirmative and she began her own search. Misaka turned a corner and brutally stopped. In the middle of the hallway was someone probably male, dressed in a grey suit, a white Panama with a black band hid most of his face and he held a suitcase in his right hand.

Despite his eyes being hidden, she could feel his gaze on her. She didn't say anything, unsure on how to proceed. Then, the man turned away and began to walk away.

"Hey! Come back here!"

She raced behind the man, ordering her sisters to continue their searches. The man managed to keep a faster pace than her despite simply walking. She shocked him lightly, to slow him down and warn him but he ignored it. She continued to do so such, each time slightly augmenting the intensity.

At one point, she let out a full discharge at him, the kind that bordered the lethal ones. Nothing, he kept his cool like as if he didn't feel anything happened. She took a bit of Iron Sand and used it to trap his feet in a whip, but despite all her attempts, she could not get the Iron Sand to act like as she wanted, it was as if another force was pushing it back.

At one point he greatly accelerated, still walking, and disappeared around a corner. When she finally caught up, he entered a holding cell and closed the door behind him. She followed him, and using the key card she had stolen, entered the room.

The strange man wasn't here, he had vanished, by unknown means. But there was person in this room. A young woman, slumped on the bed, she was wearing a prisoner uniform, her face was marred by a bruise. And that face... Misaka stopped, her eyes couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Othinus arrived, guided here by her instincts.

"Sparky, what is going on?" She asked, but then her eyes widened too as she sighted the prisoner. "But this is..." She trailed off.

"But how..." Muttered Misaka.

"It doesn't matter. Touma is not here! Let's go! I'll take her." Intervened Othinus, shaking Misaka from her shock.

"Yes, alright. We can't let her wakeup though, knowing It she will react badly."

Othinus nodded and used her power to make sure the young woman would not wake up.

"Let's go."

Reuniting with the Sisters, they quickly exited the high security block and defeated with ease the meagre reinforcements. They took the elevator, the Sisters being not powerful enough to use electromagnetism to glide up the vent shaft, and with their newest addition it would be nearly impossible.

The elevator's doors opened and Misaka had to stop dozens and dozens of bullets as multiple UIU agents had assembled near the exit. Their efforts were useless and they were soon asleep.

They continued their way through the main floor of the UIU building, passing through corridors and offices, leaving their non non-violent workers alone.

Just as they were approaching the stairs to the internal parking, the door leading to the stairs of the upper floors slammed wide open, letting see panting Tsuchimikado, Styil and Kanzaki. The three had become the baits, using their abilities to keep the UIU agents off the other group. Now that their duty was over, it was time to go. They were also disguised, hairs dyed, sporting different couloured lenses and had even used makeup to change some of their traits. Styil was the most radically changed, he had shifted to his child form, his real one. The three looked with curiosity at the new addition, before realizing who she was

Without wasting time, they rushed down the stairs, heading toward the cars. They entered the parking and were greeted by a voice.

"So, you are the ones who caused this mayhem." The voice was cold.

They looked at the origin, a woman behind a thick bulletproof glass who overlooked the parking from a higher corridor. Her voice was transmitted by speakers. She was the woman Lerouge had told them to capture as a bonus. She was dressed in an official business suit, black hair tied in a bun while freezing blue eyes examined them.

"And you take the Chicago suspect." She frowned. "Are you from the Hand, or the Spectre?" The group had no idea who they were. "Nevertheless, surrender and you shall be treated fairly, continue like this and you shall be hunted down by my allies and myself."

If by allies she meant the Foundation, that wasn't going to be very fruitful, they thought. Their only response was Othinus sending a small explosive orb at the glass, which shattered. Hoover was slightly wounded by the glass shards but remained relatively untouched.

"Don't come crying after that!" She growled.

But before they could do anything to try and capture her, she threw multiple flash-bangs in their direction, blinding and deafening them. She escaped without demanding anything else. They didn't pursue her as they heard the UIU SWAT teams approach.

Tsuchimikado rushed to a large black van with a red highlight on the back, he took out the key and opened it before starting up the engine, all legally. They all entered in. It was just enough to accommodate all of them. Before they could leave, though, Misaka and the sisters used their electromagnetism to lift the garage door.

And just like that they were out, driving in the middle of the city's traffic. Two civil UIU cars followed them, though they did not attack them. No, now that they were in the middle of the city, no longer in the soundproofed building, the UIU wouldn't attack them, to keep public order. They also didn't tell the police of the crimes they committed, since it would taint the UIU's reputation. Finally, arresting and acting illegally would spark civil discontent over civil rights abuse and would fuel their opponents, particularly the Chief of Police who saw their interventions and their power with a bad eye.

They drove, respecting the rules and laws, after all it was Tsuchimikado, an adult with an official ID card, a driver licence and even the car's registration license. They were even stopped by the TPPD, or Three Portland Police Department, but since Tsuchimikado had everything in order they were allowed to pass. The Foundation had excellent counterfeit, they remarked. And the car was theirs, according to official papers and administrations. The police could do nothing but let them go.

Soon, they were out of the city, the two UIU cars had doubled in numbers, and two vans with UIU SWAT teams had joined the fray. They were driving to one of the checkpoints was just before a portal to Portland, Oregon. Above, helicopters roared in the sky.

There was no car in front of them, after all this wasn't a road often used. The checkpoint was just in front of them, the heavy metal barrier barring the road. The UIU SWAT began to get out of their car, as Tsuchimikado stopped the car.

The custom borders agents were going to inspect their car for smuggled goods or other things, and if they discovered that they had an escaped prisoner in the back it would give them grounds for arrest.

But no custom border agents got out. Only, two Sisters, 13577 and 19090 who had previously made sure that nothing would happen when they had to cross the checkpoint, the metallic barrier opened to let them pass.

Desperate, the UIU began to shoot at the tires of the car, overlooking the laws, but the tires were bulletproof. The metallic barrier closed, and with this the UIU abandoned, knowing it was useless for them to continue. They contacted their units in Portland Oregon, but they doubted anything would come out of it.

Tsuchimikado continued to drive the car, and before he could realize or notice he was on a highway near Portland. They continued to drive for a while, before pulling up at a gas station, where they met two Foundation agents, who escorted them to two cars, before departing and setting the van on fire.

Soon, they were on a flight to Armed Site-54, without any losses and a very interesting prisoner. But no Touma, thought Misaka as she looked from the plane's windows, her gaze losing itself in the waves of the Pacific.

"There, there, Sparky, we'll find him." Said Othinus, trying to soothe her.

The little goddess was levitating on the little golden stick that was known as Gungnir. Misaka replied with a smile, but her heart still ached. When would they reunite?

Unbeknownst to her, Othinus was thinking and feeling the same. As days passed, her worry grew, that idiot was surely getting in heaps of trouble like he always did. He had protected her against an international coalition and she couldn't even help him when he needed her? She was now a joke of a god, but she would do her best do get him back. Her heart fluttered when she imagined their reunion.

The voyage continued with the group resting, their prisoner still sleeping, while Othinus dared to fantasize a bit and Misaka mulled through dark thoughts.

**A CERTAIN SCP**


	26. Chapter 26

Site Director Reynard Kear finally completed the form he had been working on, putting it on a neat pile of other papers. He stretched, fully enjoying the feeling when something poked him on the ribs. He yelped as the unpleasant feeling sent him a little shock due to the his sensitive skin. His chair rolled a bit to the right due to the impulsion.

He felt the things that poke him, sharp and cold, press itself against his throat. A sword. He looked, only to see a woman with a long coat and wide-brimmed hat. She was draped in shadows, making identification impossible, but he recognized her with a single look.

"Opera, what are you doing here?" He asked, not showing an ounce of fear. "Also, could you not tickle me?" He puffed his cheeks.

"Why?"

"You'll have to be more precise, eh." He replied with a relaxed smile.

"Why did you make him drink?"

"If you're talking about Kamijou Touma, well, poor lad seemed like he needed some booze, he was right shaken up."

He felt her frown, and the tip of the sword pressed slightly more, not drawing blood but quite close to.

"That was irresponsible of you, the consequences c-"

"Hey, hey, I won't do it again, alright, wouldn't want to turn the young man into some poor alcoholic sop. I knew he wouldn't do anything that would endanger him, I profiled him. And if you're on about the incident with 953, don't worry that got sorted out, she's under heavier security." He explained.

"I hope so. Or you will have to face consequences." She threatened.

The blade was slightly withdrawn, though he was still under threat, the sharp steel still hovering near him. His face was split by a wide and confident smile, as he spoke.

"Oh, I'm not worried."

He could feel her eyes analysing every inch of him, inspecting him, to see how much of a threat he would be.

"As you know, the appearance belies the abilities."

The two stayed silent for a minute, which felt like an eternity, before, finally, Opera lowered the sword, and in the blink of an eye sheathed it. She let out a small sigh, before crossing her arms over her waist.

"Nobody, except the Administrator knows what you are Kear." She sighed. "What are you?"

"This hurts me." He took an offended expression. "What, not who? Such rudeness coming from the Foundation's top agent." He shook his head, disapprovingly.

"Don't play with me, Kear." She growled, awaiting an actual answer.

His only response was a smirk.

"Darts?" He asked taking out a pack of cigarettes. "You seem stressed."

"First, what kind of people calls cigarettes 'darts'? Second, no thanks." She said, apparently accepting his casual refusal.

"Did you want anything else?" He questioned, lighting a 'dart' for himself. "If not, I have better things to do." He brazenly said.

The disapproving gaze came back but she said nothing, taking a few steps back, before the shadows she was draped in seemed to swallow her, and then, she was somewhere else. Kear kept dragging on his cigarette for a few seconds before letting out a long-relieved sigh, slumping on his desk.

"Shit, I was about to wet my gotch. Holy, I nearly died there." He put a hand on his still racing heart.

Serving himself a generous glass of alcohol, he drank it quickly, calming himself. He was thankful for being pretty good at bluffing. After all, he was a normal human, nothing more, doctored in sociology and paediatric as well as psychotherapy. Alright, yeah, he had a pretty rich family, allowing him to pursue studies as he liked, but he wasn't a supernatural being. He had tried thaumaturgy twice only to fail, hard.

If Opera really wanted to kill him, he would have been powerless to prevent it. He had met the Administrator's top agent once before. She was serving as a bodyguard for the Administrator as he, exceptionally, came for an inter-organisation meeting. He would later learn that an entire division of Chaos Insurgency Sigma troops, simple light infantry, an armoured battalion and five of their Special Operation Squads had been deployed, parachuted or by teleportation, to kill all the leaders.

Evidently, they had failed, but what he learned, slightly later was that the bodyguards of the other organisations hadn't fought off the Insurgency. The Insurgency had retreated after suffering thirty percent losses, the average breaking point of most armies, only against her. The rest had decided to surrender, unwilling to die at her hands or to continue to fight for the CI. They had been executed. A few, especially the commanders, engineers and Special Operators had escaped. This defeat had badly hurt the Insurgency, leaving them to bleed dry for a few years. This had been passed under silence, no other organisations knew about it, the Insurgency's attack had been kept a secret and the existence of this woman too.

The Insurgency never spoke about it, apparently unwilling to admit their unsavoury tactic, unwarranted aggression on a peaceful meeting was very frowned upon, and to admit their spectacular defeat.

For now, however, he was safe. He just hoped it would continue like that. He had to continue his bluffs. He had many enemies in the Foundation, people who considered his way as some kind of heresy. He had received threats, vocal and written. He was a normal human and a pacifist, he disdained violence. But you know what they said, _si vis pacem parabellum_ , if you want peace prepare for war. The problem was that there was no way he could ever hope to beat those who wanted his head, he didn't have any weapon for deterrence, so he had to make one up one.

He was lucky that the Administrator owed him big time for that time he avoided another scission in the Foundation, concerning _that_ country. Or not, if someone else asked him. He had requested for most of his records and information to be kept secret at all costs, and for those that remained to be counted as false. With this, he only had to use his knowledge of human psyche as well as his charisma to sow doubt into everyone's mind. For many, he was someone not to joke with, someone with immense power, for others he was a pawn, a proxy which couldn't be touched for it would incur the wrath of a or multiple very powerful persons. Or sometimes it was a mix of both.

His only weapons were words, his only shield was the favour The Administrator owed him. All in all, he had a very fragile power base.

He was shaken out of his analysis when his phone rang. A direct call, uh? That must have been important.

"Yes? Site Director Kear, listening." He said. "Ah, yes... You found him?... Good... Yes... Of course... Rest and relax but keep an eye on him... Yes, I'll pay the hotel fee... Don't abuse the mini-bar Atsushi, eh... Yeah, yeah... buy me a souvenir, alright, oh and tell Ryuuji I can see what he is actually buying with that credit card" He smirked as he heard chuckles and a choked sound on the other end of the line. "... Yeah, bye."

He hung up before dialling a number.

"Yes, hey Administrator proxy, I got some news... yeah, yeah I know, I can't call you that... thing is we found it... Yes Subject IB-0-NTV... yes, theory confirmed... yes... I'll launch searches for the others... yes, I'll tell Researcher Lerouge... Of course... But what about the Subject?...I'll see... Of course, I'll tell them. Good day."

He sighed. What a world. He transmitted the orders to his agents.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

His Holiness Father Robert Bumaro contemplated the farm serving as a receptacle for SCP-1983. He gripped his war hammer tightly, a frown crossing his delicate but metallic face. Everything that the Foundation and the Initiative told him only leads to one thing. The two adepts of the Broken God and the Calamity were lost forever. He wanted to scream but he couldn't, he had to maintain a certain dignity in front of the other factions.

Bright, Light and the rest of the scientific staff were packed up and preparing to depart. Mishimoto had tried to stall it or simply stop it. It had been useless, there was no reason to stay here. Officially, the Imagine Breaker was considered Missing In Action, and would after a certain time be classified Killed In Action.

She was sitting on a crate, her gaze fixed on that house. That damn house. Of course, the thing that would take one of the only people she had to managed to get close to would be a house. A house! She sighed, she was getting emotional.

If she listened to her instinct she would be barging in that thing and would be searching for the young SCP at this instant. However, restraining herself was an important part of her job and personality. If he and the people accompanying him were not up to the task, how could she be? She was a shrink, and she heavily doubted the things roaming in there would be interested or defeated by therapy.

To resume, she was once more useless.

She still did believe he would get out, with that goofy smile he now rarely mustered, and everything would move on. The pragmatic and idealist parts of her being were locked in a struggle. For now, her idealist part was, like often, the winning one. But as time passed, she felt her pragmatic and more analyst part gaining terrain. The evidence became overwhelming, crushing her beliefs and hope.

She looked at the house.

Wait.

It wasn't here.

Her eyes shot up. Where once stood a worrying and ancient farm, there was only air, dirt and cut canalisations. There was also something that gave her immense hope, a group of men in dark robes, the soldier of the Holy Order of the Last Salvation, swords drawn, looking quite confused.

Multiple people rushed to where they were, even the coppery angel, Robert Bumaro flew to them. Of course, she was amongst the first near them. They were disorientated, not really knowing where they were at first, before realizing they were saved. Most kneeled or prostrated, offering genuine gratefulness to their deity.

They soon realized that they were surrounded and began to interact, mostly with their comrade. Mishimoto for her part was trying to retrieve Touma but to no use. He wasn't here. The same thing happened with Bumaro, this one was trying to find Logika and Data, but to no avail.

It was definitely over, thought the two. Touma and the twins had disappeared forever in another dimension or had been killed and... had been eaten or something such as this. Many things could happen in such places.

Light and the leaders of the Holy Order began to interrogate the soldiers. They soon learned that they had been separated early. Light and the other persons of importance debated for a bit before finally concluding:

"Mishimoto!" Called Bright. "We're leaving."

Her eyes sadly dimmed as she turned her head to where the farm had been.

"So, he is really..." She muttered.

"It's still not sure, we're departing to confirm our theory."

"A theory?" She asked, suddenly intrigued.

"Yes, he might be back to the US, in Wyoming." Explained the senior researcher.

"What?"

While those words gave her a comfortable hope to cling to, it was still hard for her to comprehend why he would be in Wyoming of all thing.

"Long story short, there was another SCP-1983 before, back in Wyoming. It was cleared some years ago. Maybe the two were connected and they ended up there. We have units that we'll mobilize to search for them, but we'd like to be there ASAP."

She nodded and, without needing to be told twice, she began to prepare for immediate departure. She could only hope.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Shouldn't we have reached the outpost at that point?" Asked Data.

"I don't know!" Was Touma's response.

Logika sighed, rubbing her face in her palm. They had been walking for a good hour to the West, night had fallen, their feet treading on yellow grass while the horizon was only mountains and hills. The place they had left looked like a large plain where a ranch had been removed from existence. There were cut canalisations, cables and other things as well as the imprint of the building.

For now, they only knew that they were in the United States, the state of Wyoming more precisely. Wyoming... what did she know about Wyoming? ... Buffaloes? Too bad none of them knew anything about the state.

For now, they were blindly walking westward, following the indications of a mad and deceased man. Speaking of him, Logika threw a sideways glance to Touma, who was carrying the corpse. It had been a good hour of walking with a limp adult human in his arms, he was probably getting tired.

"Would you prefer if I take over carrying him?" She asked in a gesture of goodwill. "My augmentations make me fitter for this task."

It was true, lacking the capacity of feeling pain and fatigue in certain parts helped in such cases, especially when one also possessed superior strength. He was about to reply by the negative when Data intervened.

"Oh, I can if you want!"

The Maxwellist tried to reach for the corpse, and while she was not eager to really touch the corpse body she was still willing to help the SCP as well as to avoid passing as rude. In hindsight, she should have proposed to do this at the beginning.

"There is no need for that." Waved off the Cogwork Orthodox.

"Don't worry, I am more than able to carry him."

Logika frowned beneath her ample hood. Could she just not bother her?

"Don't bother yourselves, I 'll do it." She replied, her voice began to take a cold edge.

Now, it was Data's face's turn to take an irritated expression. It wasn't important? Couldn't Logika just let go? Apparently not as her sister insisted once more. She coldly retorted. Logika riposted. She too.

Touma's eyebrow raised as the two sisters began to descend into bickering about carrying a corpse. He did not intervene, the last time he did that kind of thing he only worsened the situation. For now, this cowardly Kamijou would just wait it out. In the end, he just slung the 'God' around his shoulder to relieve his weary arms.

They kept walking as the discussion turned more and more heated. Touma, drowning out the noise realized they were approaching a forest, it was composed of tall conifers, spruces and pines. His flashlight, that he had borrowed from Data, showed that there was a sign about a ranger station about a hundred metres in the forest if he guessed right.

"Hey, look that maybe it!" He attracted the attention of the two women to the sign.

They broke out of their heated discussion and instead switched their focus on the sign ahead. 'National Park Ranger Station ~350 feet away.' It was rather old and worn with some lichen growing on it.

"That's maybe the Foundation base." He said with spirit.

"But what if it's a simple Ranger outpost?" Questioned Logika.

"Well, we can reach the modern world, I suppose." Proposed Data. "From that point, we'll be able to contact the Church and then the Foundation."

"Speaking of the modern world, can't you contact people with your network?" Asked Touma.

She shook her head with a grimace. He noticed, slightly indignant, Logika's collected expression turn into a smug one, a corner of her mouth tugged upward.

"You seem to have tampered with it, somehow, it uses supernatural material, you may have destroyed some part." She revealed. "B-but don't worry it's fixable." She hurriedly added as he took a distressed expression.

He sighed with relief as he realized it wasn't going to leave the young woman cut off from her community forever.

"Anyway, let's go."

"Wait." Interrupted Logika. "I-I need to change."

She was answered by surprised and questioning looks. Her usually imperious face was broken by a light blush and fleeing eyes. This only accentuated the look she was getting. She slightly dipped her head, hiding her face and began to fiddle with her halberd.

"I can't stay in those robes. They'll wonder and instigate what I am! They'll get suspicious!" She explained, embarrassed.

Oh yeah, that made sense, thought Touma. He simply nodded, but Data let out a small snicker. A dark glare came her way, but she kept a little smirk on the corner of her lips. With a huff, she departed to the thick treeline, before shouting over her shoulder.

"No peeping!"

"Aye, ma'am." Said Touma, turning to the other side, even if she was hidden by the numerous trees.

After all, there were not enough precautions to avoid such a scenario. Furthermore, he knew full well if such thing were to happen, he would probably be beaten or harmed in painful ways. Data came to place herself next to him, imitating him.

They stayed silent for a few moments, observing the living painting that was the dark landscape before them. The clear and large moon allowed better vision over the vast plain. He looked at her. The blue light Data's eyes emitted and the dull fan noise coming from her were the only thing disturbing the peace of the starry night.

"Something's the matter?" She asked.

He shook out of his thoughts. He had been fixing her eyes, two pits of bright cyan with things moving in them. They looked like miniature small writings and mesmerizing geometrical forms, that maybe showed on her vision, like a Heads Up Display. He had been rather entranced by them, like a moth with light.

He turned away, slightly embarrassed and tried to give an excuse on the fly but only managed to dig his hole deeper.

"Just wanted to see your eyes."

Oh great. He just made it weirder. To his surprise, she let out a small giggle.

"What do you think about them?" She asked, placing herself before him with an innocent smile.

"Th- uhm- they're pretty." He mumbled.

It was true, they were definitely original and had a certain charm unique to them. Maybe it was their uniqueness, or simply how bright it shone, like a beacon of hope or happiness.

"Prettier than the Cogwork's?" She asked with a smile, referring to Logika.

This time he did not answer. He took a few steps back and an uncomfortable look settled on his face. That wasn't the kind of question he wanted to answer. She soon realized this and she turned apologetic.

"I'm sorry." She sighed. "Mustn't be easy to be with the twins who hate each other."

He looked at her sideways. Her gaze had drifted to the moon, observing the cratered and shining satellite who hung in the dark spotted sky.

"What happened?" He asked though he felt like he was overstepping his bounds, his curiosity got the better of him.

She let out a mirthless giggle, before pointing at the side of her head, where the metallic bar on her temples was.

"This happened." She simply said, before elaborating. "I didn't believe in what my family believed. What she believed." She shook her head. "I just wanted to seek the truth, I had faith in futuristic technologies." Sighed the Maxwellist. "It may have been a bit too hasty to convert, both in faith and body." She showed her silicon arm. "But I don't regret it."

"I see, and I suppose she didn't take it well?" Simply presumed the SCP.

"No." She shook her head. "My parents were very disappointed and confused, my mother ignored me for a good year, but we still talk." A grimace barred her traits. "I suppose they always knew I had an interest in Maxwellism. But Logika... my sister." She seemed to speak the last work with difficulty. " She took it the worse. She still hates me. Can't blame her, I didn't make it easier."

"I don't think she really does." Stated Touma, crossing his arms.

She threw him a questioning look, while doubt was heavy in her pupils, he could detect a sliver of hope.

"You saw it when we were at the Bleak Heart. She regrets."

Data's response was a small shrug.

"I don't know. This wasn't a particularly normal situation. What she said might not be what she really thinks." Her voice lightly trembled as she spoke.

"I heard you during that moment. You said that you didn't want to hurt her. You still love her, you want things to be like before, don't you?" He exposed, observing her reaction all the while.

Her face turned surprised and apprehensive before morphing into a melancholic one. She approved with a small nod.

"Well then, what tells you that she isn't willing to forgive you? You have already said that, don't you remember?"

"I know!" She retorted. "But... I don't know... Each time we talk it always seem to boil down to insults in the end."

"I'm sure that if one of you make the first step it will be alright."

"Maybe." She answered, eyes fixing the moon, doubt battling hope. "In the end, none of us actually did anything to help you." She pointed at the corpse he was still carrying.

It was at this moment that Logika chose to interrupt them before he could answer.

"Alright! We can go!"

Touma turned and the moonlight revealed a young woman in a blue and green robe with flowery motifs, reaching to her ankles. A large straw hat sat atop of her head, a green ribbon, wrapped around it, had the end flowing freely in the light wind. The sleeves reached to the middle of her forearm, before being followed by white leather gloves. She held one of her a metallic suitcase, where he presumed was her red robe and her halberd, folded he guessed. He did not know where she pulled this suitcase, but at that point, he wasn't going to doubt her ability to carry such thing one way or another.

She noticed their looks. The religious and imperious aura she always exuded was greatly diminished, instead, she looked rather... normal if a bit out of mode considering her age.

"W-what?" She asked, putting her hands over herself.

She remembered that she had been told to buy civilian clothing, something that wouldn't appear out of touch with most people. Her adept robes were too strange and conspicuous for those unfamiliar with the supernatural world. As such she had been given a choice of clothing from the Church's wardrobe.

Her embarrassed look turned irritated when she heard her twin's snicker. Data could not help herself, she found her sister's outfit humorous, it looked so out of mode, reminding her of the 1940s. She could laugh, but at least she didn't dress like any unenlightened street rat! However, to not appear rude and launch another heated dispute before the third party she decided for once to swallow down her pride but could not help herself when she asked:

"What do you think Kamijou?" As an innocent sounding demand.

Damn, they could be really similar in some ways, thought Touma, as her way of asking mirrored her sister's. The same position, same eyes and voice used to pry answers out of his poor self.

"It looks good on you." He sheepishly admitted.

He did not see the small and quick smile Logika flashed to her sister, though this one only looked away with a shrug. They began to delve into the forest. The way was tricky and quite slippery, Logika nearly fell twice due to the new shoes, impractical flat woman shoes, she was not used to. Fortunately, she was caught each time by Touma.

They finally made it to the Ranger station. It was a rather large wooden construction in the middle of a small clearing. It was composed of tree logs and a brick rooftop and small glass windows. A large parabola sat atop, accompanied by an antenna. There was a platform on a nearby treetop, which could be accessed by a ladder. All in all, it could very well be a perfect surveillance outpost for the Foundation.

There was one problem, however.

It looked worn, old and rather abandoned, not taken care of like one would expect from an outpost of either a militarized secret society or a US department also responsible for law enforcement and safety. There wasn't even a single light on.

They carefully advanced toward the log house. The night was silent, except for when they stepped onto creaking branches. They finally arrived at the house, climbed on the little patio before knocking on the door. Nothing. Data's knuckle rapped once more on the door. Nothing. Once again.

"Hey! Open!"

Nothing. Data pressed her ear against the door, her eyes shining through her closed eyelids for a few moments before she withdrew. She sighed and shook her head.

"There's no one in there."

Without waiting any longer she kneeled, reached for her inner pockets, took out some sort of metal stick before jamming it into the lock. After a few seconds, the door opened. Using the flashlight, she lit the room. It was a dusty with a few spider webs around. There was some transparent plastic cover on various furniture.

The table, for instance, or the chairs as well as the nearby cooking station with a fridge. There was a door leading to a yet unknown room further away. Logika reached to the side and flicked a switch, fluttering first, light became.

At least, the electricity was working. They began to explore the house, and Touma slumped 'God's' body on one of the chairs, first removing the plastic cover. Data opened the fridge, something that the two others welcomed, they didn't realize but the feeling of hunger came, strongly. The fridge was full of actual food, made for long conservation, even MRE, as well as drink. There was also a freezer with a considerable amount of frozen food. The cupboard also had conserved food in cans as well as plastic cutlery and plates.

Logika meanwhile, opened the door to the other room, revealing a bedroom. There were about five bunk beds, making that ten beds in the room. The beds were made and ready to be used, also covered by a plastic cover. There was also a small pile of duffel bags and various hygienic affairs ready to be used.

The communal bathroom was a bit further away, she assumed that the water worked, something that was soon verified as the water began to flow after she twisted the knob.

A question assaulted the three of them. This place seemed awfully well prepared for something that seemed abandoned for, at least, three good years considering the amount of dust, if not more. So why? Why was it so well prepared?

There were two answers. Either it was a Park Ranger relay, made to shelter them during a recovery mission or a catastrophe damage control and rescue mission. Or, it could be a secret Foundation relay, made for MTF or agents stranded in the wilderness, or even a secondary base, who knew?

Anyway, Touma transported the corpse into the bedroom, laying it on one of the farthest beds before covering it entirely with a cover.

Data meanwhile, was busy on the radio present in the relay, trying to see if she couldn't contact someone, while Logika was searching to see if there were no hints for a frequency to contact the Foundation, and while doing that she began to clean some parts of the house, removing the dust while searching.

As they continued their affair, Touma began to gather various ingredients and began to cook spicy chicken breast with rice. He wasn't eager to eat rations, something he presumed his companions also felt and was rooting for a proper meal. After unfreezing the chicken with warm water, he cut it into pieces and put in a pan. Then, he prepared the rice and heat it up in a saucepan. The pan slightly crisped as the meat cooked, adding a dull sound to the relative silence of the log house. The silence, for one, was not awkward or heavy but rather relaxing and light.

While the future meal was heating up, Touma disposed of the plates and the cutlery. He stopped in the menial of this activity. A nostalgic look settled on his face, as he took in the familiar activity. It had been long since he had done something so... casual. It reminded him of home.

The more time passed, the more his annoying friends missed him, the more the endless assignments seemed a better fate than this one, running around the City to get the best food sales, economizing every yen he could. For one reason it didn't look that bad right now. Even the problems he was always thrown in were not usually as depressing as this one. At least, he often had friends or amicable and pleasant acquaintances to share the adventure with. Exception made of course when one considered his latest ventures, with Othinus, he wasn't eager to repeat it.

He sighed. Once again, he wondered what happened in the Gakuen Toshi. While he knew he wasn't the only 'good doer' living there, he still worried. Despite all of its flaws he always felt closely connected to the city, it was cruel, it was cold but it also a place of marvellous promises, waiting to be shared with humanity. Like every human community, it had great potential but ruined by greed and its researchers', too much common, lack of empathy. Even, if, in a way, it was one of the reasons why the City was so advanced.

But he digressed.

The people of the City were his main source of worry. There were many who wanted to destroy Academy City, and he knew most of the missions he had, sometimes unwittingly, accomplished, had for goal to neutralise threats to the City. At least, he thought with a smile, he could count on Biribiri and Accelerator to defend it.

He was shaken out if his thought by a slight intensification of the crackling sound of the pans. He rushed to them and turned off the gas.

"Dinner's ready." He shouted, drawing the attention of the twins.

They had been absorbed in their task but stopped when they felt the call of their stomach. The three of them quickly sat down at the table. Touma served everyone a large portion, he made as much as he used to when he lived with Index. That is to say, approximatively for a bit more than five people.

While that did raise some unspoken questions, they remained as such, none of the girl willing to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Itadakimasu." Said Touma as he finished serving everyone;

The dinner began, silent but light, the rapid sound of eating, plastic forks and knives rasping against food and each other while owls hooted outside. As the dinner progressed the speed of the sound of consumption slowed down. And, slowly, a silence came down. This time it was heavy. No one talked to each other.

The food was good, but unfortunately, it could do amend for the heavy and distasteful silence oppressing the entire room. Touma threw quick looks at the two women, who avoided eye contact with each other, despite being nearly face to face. After everyone finished the meal, he took the plates and went to was them. He sighed.

Apparently, this action showed his discomfort, and in order to alleviate the awkwardness oppressing the room, she pretexted that she needed to go outside since she felt parts of her network connecting back.

The air, when she departed, slightly relaxed but no words were spoken. At least, for a while.

"You know, she doesn't want that." He simply said as he cleaned the plates with a sponge.

"Why do you care?" She snapped up.

He couldn't blame her, after all, it wasn't really his business. So why?

"First off, you're irritating me acting like that, second, do I really need a reason to help people?" He asked, rather rhetorically.

A small bitter laugh answered him. He finally looked behind to see Logika, looking at him with a sour smile.

"At least, you're honest. I like that." She answered.

He shrugged.

"Why do you care so much that she became a... Maxwellist, is it? Can't you respect her choice?"

A thundering sound was his answer. Logika's metallic arm had violently slammed the table, cracking it, even burying its feet, those on her side, in the wood of the floor. He silently gulped, but otherwise retained a neutral face and continued cleaning the plates.

"You know nothing, outsider! You wouldn't know how it is, you're a heathen!" She growled. "I couldn't, no I can't let her continue this way! She is wrong! A heretic! A traitor! A disappointment! She..."

"Do you really believe that?" He interrupted.

Silence.

"Do you really think that the problem is solely her choice of worship?"

"Maxwellists do not deserve sympathy! They are fools and manipulators who draw innocents, promising things that they cannot realize! They are dangerous! T-"

"So, you worry about your sister, is that right?" He looked at her again.

Her face had taken a sad look.

"She just doesn't want to understand... she didn't and doesn't trust me." She got up and placed herself at one of the windows, her eyes drawn to the celestial moon. "She didn't even tell me before doing it! She didn't tell me! Why?" He didn't move from his spot, drying the plates with a rag, but he could see from the corner of his eyes that her eyes had begun to shine. "We told everything to each other... why?"

"Because she was afraid you would stop her." He said, gambling.

For now, he had just used what he had managed to learn when they were at the Bleak Heart. They wanted to forgive one another but were too afraid to do so. For now, he just had to pressure them into doing that.

"But why would you?" He asked. "Evidently, she is living a good life while being a Maxwellist, you don't need to worry about that. Even before you knew that, didn't you. So why?"

"You know if I had the heart to joke, I would say that the number of things you seem to know about me is beginning to get creepy." She turned and faced him with a sad smile, eyes brimming with tears.

He returned her expression, as he finished cleaning everything.

"When we were children..." She began. "... We promised each other that, together, we would rebuild the Broken God, and that together we would see the accomplishment of the Church's teaching, the leap forward for humankind..." She sighed. "But now, it is impossible... how can we build together Mekhane if she believes in those idiocies!" She exclaimed, frustrated.

"To the risk of making myself a fool again. Why can't you build it together, I mean, you're going to tell me this is impossible but a few hours before I would have told you that building a god is impossible. At that point, is there something that cannot be envisioned in this world? I mean it's good to have a physical form, but having an actual intelligence is crucial." He said, referring to Logika's Physical Reassembling theory and Data's Collective Artificial Intelligence theory.

"But the Church..."

"Is it worth your sibling? If one of you is right, then time will prove it, what is the point of fighting each other out? If one wants to believe in something false, isn't that their choice? The truth will prevail one day, so until then enjoy each other's company... before it's too late." He said, a bitter smile etching itself on his lips.

Another silence. While she could find a fault in Touma's logic, namely the fact that Maxwellists wanted to convert everyone, she longed for the good old days where her sister and she would talk and hang out without any worries, she recalled with fondness the prank they ran on the Legate. Maybe, maybe...

"You're right. I want things to be like before, even if she remains a Maxwellist fool." She sighed, taking her head between her hands. "But... I've been horrible with her. I've said things, things that shouldn't have been spoken. I-"

The door suddenly opened and before Touma or Logika could say anything, the Cogwork Orthodox was tackled by her sister. Surprised at first, the twins melted into a hug, accompanied by choked sobs. Touma smiled, relaxed, fortunately, Data had been listening to the conversation, her curiosity getting the better of her.

He let them have some privacy so they could settle their problems once and for all. He went into the bedroom, closed the door and turned on the light. He sneezed due to the amount of dust. He went at one of the beds, the one where he had put 'God's' body. He sat on the bed.

"Faith, what a thing uh?" He spoke to the lifeless 'God'. "Sure wished I had it, makes some things easier."

He had seen and experienced so many things and met so many people that he was confused about divinities. His upbringing had first separated him from any religion, he supposed that in classes they taught how god or deities were like fairy tales, non-existent. This was a City of cold hard science, after all, there was no place for mythology or prophets. He supposed this upbringing, though forgotten, had influenced him. All of this made believing in a superior being, even a being that was no omnipotent or omniscient, hard but also easy at the same time.

He knew an actual god. There were so many gods, that contradicted each other, which could actually exist that the essence of divinity itself became meaningless. What was a god? The definition was definitely blurry. Was it a defined being, multiple beings or even a metaphysical concept which could not be applied in any way? One thing was sure, he was not about to know.

Then, the unexpected happened. Someone knocked, not at his door, but at the door leading to the exterior. He got out of the bedroom and met Logika and Data who had withdrawn from each other. They threw questioning glances at each other. Knuckles rapped against the door in a rhythm, two times, pause, one time, pause, two times.

A code? He wondered. Logika and Data indicated him to stay away, as they placed next to the door. Data was in front of the door while Logika took the right side, taking out a piece of metal from her suitcase, which soon deployed to form her halberd.

The knuckles rapped again, this time more insistent. Muffled voices could be heard, and the sound of loaded weapons accompanied them.

"Six." Spoke Data, indicating the number of enemies.

Her sister nodded, and as Touma stepped back, placing himself out of potential harm's way, they opened the door. Data pointed her cannon at the intruders. The first was a woman wearing a park ranger outfit who raised her hands, as she took in the menacing barrel.

Her five colleagues took out their weapons, four revolvers and a shotgun.

"I suppose you're the expedition of SCP-1983?" Calmly said the woman.

"You're from the Foundation?" Questioned Data, slightly lowering her arm-weapon.

"Yeah, is Mr Kamijou with you?" Asked the woman. "For the love of God, lower your weapons!" She ordered to her colleagues. "Sorry about that."

"No worries." Answered Data, fully retracting the weapon and signalling Touma and Logika to reveal themselves.

"Ah, perfect, so you are Data and Logika. Good, we've been told to bring you with us. We'll transport you by plane to Boston." Revealed the woman. We have a car to transport you to a nearby airport. If you could come with us."

"Are you part of MTF 'Choir Boy'?" Asked Touma.

"Yes, how do you know?" Answered the woman. "I'm sergeant Vargas, MTF Chi-13 'Choir Boys', why do you ask?"

"We have a colleague of yours." Said Touma.

"Really, where is he?" She asked, intrigued.

"Follow me." He said, leading them to the bedroom.

There he revealed the corpse of 'God'.

"He told me he was part of your team, he even showed his badge, it's in his one of his pocket but he's... well you can see." He said, bitterness in his tone. "I thought it would be better if I let you do your things. He never told us his name, I have to admit, he wasn't... sane."

"Thank you." Said the woman. "Though I doubt I can recognize him... Radek! Come here!" She called one of her colleagues.

He was a rather old man, with a grizzled face.

"You need something?"

"Yeah, you were part of the original team weren't you, can you identify that guy?"

"I was in 'Sequires Nos', but I maybe met him when 'Choir Boys' came to help us." He said, before bending over and removing the scarf, blocking Touma's view. He also searched in the man's pocket.

"Nah, don't recognise him. But he does have the badge alright." He said, pulling up the scarf on the man's face. "He definitely has the clothes the original team wore. Bunch of crazy bastards. Though, he got a mix of 'em."

"Thank you." She said to the two. "Now, except if you need anything else, we can depart."

They nodded, two soldiers came to carry 'God'. They followed the disguised Foundation team to their vehicle, a Park Ranger Ford Interceptor Utility. The sergeant took the wheel, Radek as her co-pilot while the other soldiers went into the back, sitting on the side. Touma and the twins on the meantime took the seats in the middle.

The road was slightly bumpy but as the car advanced the three of them began to feel sleepy. Unable to resist the claws of Morpheus they soon accepted its embrace. When they arrived at the airport, the agents discovered the three of them peacefully sleeping, slumped on each other.

"Aww, don't wake them up. Poor kids, must have been exhausting to get through 1983." Said Vargas.

The three were transported with all the care the Foundation agents could afford to the small aircraft. They protected their ears with earmuffs so they wouldn't wake up when the plane's motor would roar. As the three agents who carried placed them, they decided to play a little prank, snickering like kids all the while. Finally, they exited the plane and began to walk off while the craft roared to life.

"What are we going to do?" Asked Radek as the plane flew off the airstrip.

Without SCP-1983 'Choir Boys' had outlived its usefulness.

"Oh, I'm sure the high-ups have something." Simply answered Vargas. "C'mon let's go."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Congratulations on the success of your mission."

"I wouldn't call it a success, we didn't find Touma." Growled Misaka at Lerouge.

The entirety of the dimension hoppers was assembled into Lerouge's office. This one was, as usual, dressed in his white suit, harbouring a small smirk while eight Ice Coats, two for each corner were disposed of in the room.

"Could you explain to us what this means?" Asked Tsuchimikado, showing a photo of the prisoner they had rescued at the UIU's headquarter.

Lerouge took it, briefly looked at it before giving it back. He already had knowledge about their finding before they arrived. He was at first curious of why they had taken this specific person, but he soon understood. He had seen the young woman before she was taken to the medical ward to be checked upon. It would seem that she had been the victim of torture, such as walling and advanced interrogation techniques.

"I think you are intelligent enough to know." He simply said. "I know this must be a great shock Mrs Misaka. I am sorry not to have informed you earlier."

"Does that mean there are others?" Questioned Kanzaki.

"...It is a possibility." He admitted. "Though, I discourage you from looking for them. They are probably people with their own lives, banal or abnormal. If you wish I may try to look for them and inform you of their activities, though I strictly advise not to contact them."

His voice and eyes were steely as he did not 'advise' them but ordered them to do so. They nodded, accepting his first proposition as well as his 'advice'. He mimicked their movement, apparently satisfied by their easy acceptance. It seemed that cooperation was becoming smoother, good.

"As for Mr Kamijou, we shall intensify our researches, the original and secondary. Though I doubt the results will be conclusive, we would know if he was..." He sighed. "I have to admit I did not expect that. We should have run tests sooner."

"It does not matter, as long as it doesn't greatly affect anything. After all, it was to be anticipated." Said Othinus.

"Thank you for your understanding." He said before a ping drew his attention. "Ah, she seemed to have woken up, if you wish you can assist to the interrogation which will begin in a few minutes." He informed and proposed them.

They nodded, accepting the invitation and he led them through the complex until they arrived before a special medical bay. Lerouge led them into a room just next to it which had a large screen broadcasting what happened in the bay via hidden cameras.

Inside, the prisoner they had rescued was interrogated by a scientist, accompanied by one of the doctors and three Ice Coats.

"Hello, I am Doctor Kazekawa, could you tell me if you are indeed-"

"Where am I? Who are you? What do you want?" Asked the prisoner with confidence and authority like she was in charge.

"I am inclined to answer some of your questions, but I must first ask of you to confirm your identity." Demanded the doctor.

"I won't repeat myself. Where am I? Am I back in Japan? Who are you? And what do you want?" Seethed the girl.

"I have been rather conciliating of your demands, but I must ask you to questions shall be answered when you prove yo-"

He couldn't finish his phrase as blue began to light the entire room. The camera feed and the speakers emitted crackling. The dimension hoppers were about to intervene when they were stopped by a swift gesture of Lerouge. No more than five seconds later the feed came back to life showing that nobody had been hurt.

The only differences were that the prisoner was threatened by one rifle and bayonet on each side while the third bodyguards had placed himself before the Foundation staff, two revolvers out. The prisoner had a defeated look, hands in the air.

"Alright, alright, I'll tell you. Didn't expect you to have something like that..." Sighed the prisoner.

"Thank you." Said the Kazekawa, addressing both the guards and the interrogated. "Now, can you confirm you are indeed the member of the Chicago Spectre, known as Faraday, captured by the Unusual Incidents Unit, age nineteen and ten months, whose name is-"

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Data began to wake up, eyes barely opened, her programs cooled down and updated, informed her she was resting her head on something soft on the surface but firm below. Her audio sensors informed her that she was probably in an aircraft. Still half asleep she wiped the drool on the lower side of her mouth.

This action led her to feel the thing on which she was resting her head. It felt like a shirt. She turned her opening lids to her support. White. She drew back her head. White shirt and black spiky hair. She swiftly withdrew her head, embarrassment flaming her cheek. Fortunately, her support, also known as Kamijou Touma was still soundly asleep.

Had they fallen asleep? She didn't realize how many hours they had spent in the house, whether it had been a full day or not was up to debate. Maybe it had been a few hours? The only thing she knew was that they had begun to feel sleepy as the emotionally challenging events of the day caught up with them. Speaking of such.

Her eyes searched for her sister. She found the back of her head, which was resting on the SCP's shoulder while her eyes were apparently drifting to the horizon, as she was placed next to the window, her hat in her lap.

They had finally managed to forgive each other, and while she knew that for some time their exchanges might be awkward, she was determined to make sure things would be like before.

She was pretty sure her sister was awake and she felt a smirk worm its way up her face.

"Well, aren't you cosy?" She whispered to her sister.

This one jumped a bit, startled, she turned to face her twin trying to maintain her usual imperious expression but the rose tainting her cheek betrayed her. However, she managed to keep her vocal composure.

"Good morning, sister, have you slept well?" She asked, her face regaining its regal complexion.

"I return the question, was your pillow comfortable enough?" She teased.

Oh, how much she had missed that! Her twin's answer didn't disappoint her.

"You're one to talk, you drooled over him like a baby."

This time it was Data's turn to be embarrassed as her sister's expression turned triumphal. Then, they shared a laugh. A yawn.

"What are you laughing about?" Asked Touma, as he woke up, a yawn escaping his lips.

"Nothing!" Exclaimed the two, synchronised.

He looked at their flustered selves, with an intrigued look before shrugging. The twins shared a small thumb up. An announcement came, informing them that they would soon land. It wasn't a lie, as of a few minutes after, the plane finally touched the ground.

Soon they were walking out of the craft, welcomed by a small party of Foundation agents. They followed the agents who lead them to a secluded room in the airport. They were left alone, three agents standing guard.

Logika and Data were told that someone would come to get them, while Touma had to wait until the aircraft had been refuelled, checked up and ready for another flight. He was seated on a chair fixed to the wall. He remarked that Logika approached him, planting herself before him, standing tall.

"Kamijou." Spoke the Cogwork Orthodox, her commanding attitude etched on her traits, worrying him, before they softened. "Thank you. Not only have you saved our life but you have managed to bring my sister and me together again. For this, you have my thanks." She gave a formal bow.

"No need t-" Began Touma, hastily putting his hands before him.

"Nonsense. I am very grateful, we are grateful." She threw a look at her sister, who answered with a confirming smile. "I shall speak in your favour shall anything concerning you come up in the discussions of the Church."

"I second that." Said Data.

"Well, uhm, thank you."

To be fair, he just waved his hand around like he was used to and managed to garner enough information to know what was wrong between the two as well as the fact that they didn't really hate each other. With time they would have probably fixed up. It wasn't really impressive, but... he supposed he did no wrong. As such, he accepted the declaration with a smile.

"But seriously." Sighed Data, seating next to him and leaning close, causing him to lean away. "Are you sure you don't want some augmentations." She asked, her eyes glowing brighter. "What about this model!" She took some disk out of her vest, showing a hologram of a leg made of silicon and electronic parts. "Or this one! It has an integrated speaker!"

She was cut off when a halberd fell between her and the young SCP.

"Leave the poor man alone." Commanded the twin. "He evidently isn't interested..."

Touma was about to muster a thankful smile and look when she continued.

"... in computers. He is a man of action! Nothing better for this than hard steel and gears. What about integrating a revolver into your arm!?" She said, though her eyes weren't serious.

"You know what, I think I'll take all of it." He joked.

They laughed for a bit before someone entered. He was an elderly man in a tweed costume with a moustache, his eyes, framed by round glasses, immediately set themselves on Data.

"Professor Gerald!" Exclaimed Data. "It has been a long time."

"Indeed, young one. I am overjoyed to see you well. Thank you two." He said, addressing Logika and Touma. "I have been sent to collect you and bring you back to your respective churches. The earlier the better."

"Ok." Sighed Data, apparently disappointed for a reason which escaped the SCP.

Logika was the first to stride toward the door, giving a small ceremonial bow which he returned before reiterating her thanks and bidding him farewell. Data followed her, blew him a kiss to which he responded with a wave of his hand and a goodbye.

And soon, he was alone. Not for long though, a few minutes later the Foundation agents came to pick him up and he was then put back in the plane and once again flew off, this time back to Site-17.

The flight was rather short. He took a deep breath as his feet trod on the airstrip, the wind blew gently while the waves crashed against the rock. He felt rather relaxed as he walked toward the three guards that came to escort him.

For once, he was less disappointed to get back to the Site, there was worse. He wondered if he could talk with Kear, the man was rather sympathetic. He noticed it was Pearse that welcomed him. Well, the man was after all supposed to be the head of his on-site security detail. He noticed the actually genuine smile the man sported.

"Hi! Good mission?" Asked Pearse.

Should he tell him that he had seen some of the worst things in existence while journeying in the constant fear of having his heart ripped out all of this accompanied by emotional roller coasters? Probably not.

"It's been alright, I guess." He said with a small smile.

"Good to hear that!" Said Pearse, slinging an arm over his shoulder as they began to walk toward one of the entrances of Site-17, the elevator coming from the ground to take them down to the Site.

He looked at one of the guards who had their face masked. They gave him a slight thumb up which he returned with one of his own. Yeah, it wasn't so bad. As they strode through the corridors, he was intercepted by a familiar face.

"T- Mr Kamijou, how have you been?" Asked Wanda, at first eager before she was reminded of the setting.

He flashed her a grin.

"I've been good, w-"

He looked behind and saw a new face. She reminded him of someone... He had seen her before, but where? His eyes focused on her and she noticed it.

"Oh, a fellow countryman. Hi, I'm the new sniper, M-"

He barely heard the answer as he realized what it meant.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Orion grinned under his mask as his newest addition swore her loyalty to him. The observant that the Alpha Group had sent wasn't that hard to convince. He was sure she was honest in her declaration, her tone and personality suggested it.

He placed a paternal hand on her shoulder and thanked her, he promised her opportunities and rewards for choosing him over the Alpha Group, making sure to use her first name multiple times. She replied with thanks and a smile before getting out of his room.

Thinking of it, it seemed that the Alpha Group lacked something crucial, loyalty. He had managed to sway her with promises and genuine concern. When he first saw her, she was a gaunt woman with dark bags under her eyes, haunted. He had approached her, proved itself to be someone caring, worrying about her health and had actually helped her when she got herself in trouble with his men. Though, he did rig that, playing all the unwitting actors.

But was it really a play? He had acted in genuine worry with his soldiers before and if he was honest, with her too. That poor woman had looked stressed and worried to the bone. She was getting better now.

But he digressed. His main concern was the Alpha Group, this woman was supposed to be technically one of their best most loyal agents, and yet she had been swayed rather easily by him. That meant that most of their own 'loyal' agents must have doubt about them.

If they treated him, an inferior member of their own council, like a dog and were so arrogant, he dared not imagine how they behaved with the common folk or even special agents. His fists tightened. They were disgusting pieces of shits. They may have had a good and noble goal before but their existence, prolonged by machines and drugs had made them into arrogant power-hungry bastards, especially since the defeat at Tehran.

This memory made him shiver. He had only heard stories. Stories of a terrifying monster in the guise of a woman draped in shadows who had singlehandedly slaughtered a division and sliced through tanks. He knew that the Alpha Group had deigned to send more reinforcements and had withdrawn all anomalous objects and some of the important personnel, forsaking the others. They had tried to act like Sun Tzu ' _Throw your soldiers into positions whence there is no escape, and they will prefer death to flight'._ They had failed, unlike Sun Tzu who could gain the respect of his men, they had acted as life wasting heartless bureaucrats, handing an easy victory to the Foundation.

They were good scientists and administrators but the only military man was a Prussian and World War One general who never adapted to new settings.

In the ranks and files, he knew that some had knowledge of it as a rumour. But it still pervaded, hanging like a spectre, would it be their fate? Thinking about it... Disloyal top agents, distrustful soldiers. Despite him, he felt a grin overtake his face. The fruits were ripe, sooner than he had expected.

The act of subservience would soon be over, and he would finally lift the curtain for a new stage. A stage where he would be the director and where he would set the play right again.

The observant came in handy, he had a new task for her. But first, he filed through his computer, looking for a particular document. He passed through photos, especially one that struck him, the one of a younger Lieutenant. He must have been sixteen, eh, he was always a bit on the scrawny side. Despite that, he could be quite terrifying.

His attention was drawn to a new message. A close agent of his. The scan detected nothing harmful. He opened it. A picture of a file for a coma patient, what was so i-.

He stopped. His eyes widened. How the hell did he...?

**A CERTAIN SCP**

The Massachusetts Institute of Technology, also known as MIT, was one of the most respected and famous scientific institutions and campus. It was the learning place to some of the brightest minds in the history of the world.

It was in the underground of these prestigious place that Data and Logika, back in her ceremonial red robe, walked, following Professor Gerald. They were in some of the secret parts of the Institute, built after the end of the First World War when the United States began to show its potential at becoming the first world power, and as such an interesting place for the Broken Church and its sympathizers.

Professor Gerald was one of those, not inducted in any of the three churches but close to their ideals. Neither was he interested in the squabble between the three churches, even if he did favour the Maxwellists, he taught Electrical Engineering after all.

As they progressed in the hallways, the walls turned from painted reinforced concrete to metallic ones, though there were no inscriptions on them. They ended up before a large door made of brass, which opened automatically, revealing a huge room with three machines inside. The one in the centre was made of bronze and from it jutted a yellow ray that climbed to the ceiling where it disappeared in a chimney from which came natural light. A hammer breaking the ground was engraved on it.

The machine to the right looked the same except that the material was brass as well as gears. Instead of a ray, it was black smoke, coming from a long chimney, before escaping from a hole connecting going to the outside. This one had the symbol of a gear with three steel beam, underneath and to the sides, with horse head, like an oil pump.

The final was made of various metal but also of wires and computer parts and plastic. This time it was a mess of wires and cables that climbed to the ceiling before disappearing into a hole. The engraving was one of a cross with three horizontal bars while a stylized electrical network ran on the lower sides.

Before two of the machines, the left one and the right one two persons.

The first, near the machine with the sigil of the Cogwork Orthodox was a tall woman dressed in a red toga made of painted blades of orichalcum. Her entire self was made of mechanical parts, mainly gears, pulleys and steam-powered machinery. From the side of her head jutted small chimneys, like horns, who let out small puffs of steam. Her hair made of crystal stayed still in a delicate XIXth Century nobility haircut. Her face also made of brass had no eyes, and instead, two gems, one of ruby, the other a sapphire. In her hands she held a long spear with a tip made of an enchanted diamond which contained molten lava, making the entire tip burn in everlasting fire. Finally, a cogwheel hovered above her head like a halo.

The second person, a Maxwellist was rather human-like, if one forgot the futuristic-looking armour she wore, made of white segmented plates of carbon nanotubes and ceramics while an undersuit of high-modulus polyethene. The side of her face, locked in eternal youth, were covered by ceramic plates and ornaments, before transforming into robot-like ear-antenna. Her face, speaking of it could be recognized as the one of a famous actress and inventor of the twentieth century, while her hair, natural reached her shoulder, curling on the side. Finally, the most interesting detail about her was the angel wings sprouting from her back, built in ceramic, each of the 'feather' had a small blue LED light. Just like her counterpart, she had a halo, though this one was a simple white plastic ring

At the moment the two women looked at each other with defiant and suspicion, the Orthodox even baring her teeth, cutting triangles of diamonds, at one point. Their hostile gaze turned caring when they brought their sight on Logika and Data.

Logika hurriedly rushed to the Orthodox, kneeling and bowing her head.

"Legate Trunnion." She greeted.

"Rise young one, I am overjoyed that the Mekhane," she emphasized this word. "protected you." She said, with mechanical warmth in her voice as she put her hands on Logika's shoulder.

Meanwhile, Data greeted her fellow Maxwellists using short-range emissions.

" _Saint Hedwig."_

"Sister, it has been too long, I thank WAN," She spoke normally, also emphasizing the name of her deity, "for protecting you. I do hope you have not been bothered by backward minds." She said with a smile.

Trunnion's brass face remained stoic, stuck in its steely composure, but a puff of steam, larger than most, escaped through her 'horns'.

"Adept, I am sorry if you have been hindered by a companion's foolishness."

The Legate and the Saint threw glances at each other, resentment brewing, boiling. The twins also looked at each other, and in a moment of sisterly understanding, calmly walked to each other, and before their mentor's surprised gaze embraced.

"Be careful, alright?" Whispered Data.

"Of course, you take care of you." Answered Logika.

They broke up with a smile, and with that tranquil and happy expression, stepped into the machines with their flabbergasted leader following them. Later, those ones would ask them what happened, the only response would be a smile, and a 'The Calamity helped'.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"So, so far we only know he is a prole, currently unemployed, does odd jobs, no relationship, though he would if he wasn't dense." This drew a chuckle from his partner, Ryuuji. "live in, w- Oh, there's a girl being harassed by some thugs." He remarked, focusing his gaze on the small scene, unfolding a dozen metres away.

Most people ignored it, not willing to put themselves or their precious time for something as light as harassing or potential assault. After all the police were here for that!

"Should we do something?" Asked Ryuuji to his colleague, Atsushi.

"Hold on. Hold on. I think he is going to do it again." Smirked Atsushi, tapping his partner's arm.

"This is going to get good."

They observed as a young man, a bit over twenty headed toward the altercation.

"I bet you sixty thousand yen he is going to get into a fight." Said Ryuuji.

"Alright, then, I bet the same that he'll be able to escape without fighting." Answered Atsushi, tapping his colleague's hand.

They watched as the young man began to talk to the thugs, before addressing the girl and departing with her, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he took her by the hand and walked off. She said something, that set the thugs off and they raced after them.

The two agents approached the group and watched in a mix of horror and amusement the young lady trip and fall. The thugs began to catch up, in a feat of unexplainable selflessness the young man placed himself between the girl and the thugs, letting her escape while he took a hit to the face.

He returned it but was soon overwhelmed by the thugs, who finally found a target.

"Eh, you owe me sixty grands." Chuckled Ryuuji.

"Let's help him instead of chatting." Said Atsushi, rolling his eyes. "And this is barely a fight."

The two men moved in, and without warning began to beat back the thugs, their fists were swift and merciless, and soon their surprise attack ended as the last agitators fell or ran away.

"You alright there?" Asked Atsushi, addressing the black and blue young man, offering his hand.

He had black spiky hair, light stubble on his chin and a rather inoffensive and lost look.

"Yeah." He said with a smile. "Thanks for the help." He took the hand. "I'm Kamijou Touma, nice to meet you."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"...Do you confirm this?" Asked Doctor Kazekawa.

"Yes, I do." Said the young girl, chestnut hair framing her face. "I am indeed Misaka Mikoto, age nineteen."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Oh, a fellow countryman. Hi, I'm the new sniper, Mugino Shizuri, pleased to meet you." She presented herself, giving her hand to shake.

He took it, as he still wondered. Where did he see her?

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"What? How the hell?" Whispered Orion.

His gaze switched from photos of the Lieutenant to the coma patient. If one removed the scars marring the Lieutenant's lower face, they were the same person! This patient's name was... Accelerator? What was that name?

**A CERTAIN SCP**

 


	27. The Village

_A few_ _months before..._

Zofia. It was her name if she remembered right. Sometimes her memory was hazy, sometimes it was clear. Sometimes it was dark, sometimes she could see. But she never felt her body. Sometimes, it moved, not on her own accord, but like someone was pulling the strings. She would also speak, but the words wouldn't come from her. It was her voice, but she didn't choose to say the words.

It had been a few years since they arrived. Strange men… Either clad in combat fatigues or lab coats. They came, talked to her, asked her questions she couldn't answer, examined her, took samples of her hair. Once a while, their words would trigger a reaction from her uncontrolled body, and they would engage in a conversation about something.

She wanted to scream, to kick something, to cry, but she stayed silent, motionless. She never ate, never slept, never moved, except when they would come. Once they had tried to make her move, they had tied a tow cable to her and had pulled with a car. She hadn't budged at all.

She regretted if she had known what would happen if they opposed him. Him and his damn game. His threat had seemed empty, but now, she wished she had known the future. There were others like her.

Zofia saw one of the doctors enter her field of vision. He began to say something. She couldn't really hear. He seemed to speak alone; he wasn't expecting an answer. He looked sorry. Pitied.

However, she quickly forgot about him when she felt something. She felt! How?! But she ignored it. She could feel her arm. She moved it! She moved it! Her other limbs were asleep, frozen, but she decided to keep going.

The doctor was still talking on his own. She had to communicate, but she had nothing do so. Yes, she had something. She approached her right hand, the free one, near her left and arm and began to scratch with her long, but manicured nails.

The keratin began to draw a form, carving a bloody drawing as she cut through her skin. The doctor noticed her movement, his eyes widened, and he called for someone over the radio and began to speak to her, screaming something that went unheard. Her face was still frozen into that lifeless smile, and her eyes were solidly glued to the horizon, but her nails carved.

However, she soon lost feeling over her arm, and soon it returned at its usual place. Other strangers came, and they began to disinfect her wounds, however, they did not apply bandages. Apparently, they had understood she was trying to write something.

As months passed, she managed to finally write what she wanted. Someday, carving a bit more. Each time they would disinfect her.

Doctor Mynarski worried about many things, about his brother working with Prometheus Laboratories, over himself and also over a young 'NPC' as they called it, more particularly SCP 079-18-FR.

She was an instance of SCP-079-FR, a strange village which hosted video-game like characters who acted as if they were such. They corresponded to missing person all over Poland, in which they were located. They were unresponsive unless spoken to using certain phrases, which could trigger a programmed speech.

However, 079-18-FR had shown signs, in some rare instances, of regaining consciousness. Ever since she had been carving thing in her arm. They made sure the wounds would not tot, they had seen what happened if they didn't.

As months passed, he saw letters etched by the young woman, also nicknamed the 'washerwoman' or 'lavandière' due to her apparel and her designations by other instances of SCP-079-FR. First, in her self-inflicted wounds he saw a P, then an O, followed by an M, after this a Ó, the next letter was a Z, she continued with an M and finished with an I. POMOZMI, or rather pomóz mi. Help me, in Polish. He grimaced. There was nothing to do for them, the only time they had tried, it had ended up with the exact opposite of what they wanted to do. Mobile Task Forces 'Servant Knights' and 'Revenge of The Dragon.' had failed at their quests, quite literally.

_17_ _th_ _of February 2018, present day..._

As Mynarski entered the village, welcomed by the sore sight of frozen humans, he also noticed something. A message, a graffiti on the wall. It was from him! The Man in Black! It read the following.

_'1.5.0 Beta ukończona. Gotowy do rozbudowy serwerów na całym świecie.'_

That could be bad, the Foundation had to intervene, the instigator needed to be put down.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

The chilly wind didn't bother Rem Zhukov. His own gaze and expression were closer than the winds of the Ural as he watched the men under his command fight. Inside of a circle made of kneeling humans, two men, wearing only boots, trousers and a red balaclava fought with a knife.

The issue of the battle was undecided, as quick jabs and kicks were answered by vicious swipes and punches. Finally, one of the fighters managed to disarm his opponent and in a quick succession of moves cut a superficial wound on his adversary's torso.

The two stopped and shook hands with respect. Rem clapped twice in his hand, signalling the end of the exercise. The soldiers disbanded after a reinvigorating 'Ura'. As he entered his bedroom and office, Rem looked himself in the mirror. The most noticeable trait about him was not his lean yet powerful build, or his prominent nose or even the crows feet surrounding his eyes but the disfiguring bullet wound next to his mouth, creating a small but deep valley in his face and hills of flesh, followed by a deformation of the left side of his lower jaw which went lower than his right one. But he ignored it, instead, focusing on his age. It was his birthday after all.

Sixty, uh? Time sure flew by. He was fifteen years older than his late grandfather when he defeated Germany, and yet he had done nothing noteworthy but a simple tour in Afghanistan, and a few operations to protect people against supernatural threats. He sighed, running his hands through his disappearing grey locks. His grandfather had fought during the Revolution, defeating reactionary Tsarists and corrupted Republicans.

He had never fought in anything so world changing, instead, he had assisted to the corruption and slow agony of the dream his grandfather had helped build. He even had assisted, impotent at its death, the bled dry country blowing in multiple pieces. Economic instability, violent transition, poverty, shrinking population, wars, a broken military.

This reminded him of how low the fund for his unit was. At least he could still maintain relative independence from the FSB, the Federal Security Service of Russia, as it had no interest in the paranormal. His unit, Russia's only line of defence against forces that the global population ignored, was GRU Division P, also known as Spetsgruppa P. P for Psychotronics.

Established by Stalin following the anomalous murder of an official named Kirov, they were here to safeguard Soviet and, later, Warsaw pact residents from supernatural threat as well as to prepare anomalous means of attack and defence in case of war against NATO or China. After the fall of the Soviet Union, and the restructuration of the defunct KGB, the GRU-P was allowed to continue its ways, unsupervised by the new capitalist government and FSB, after he managed to convince President Yeltsin of leaving them alone. When he was replaced, he had fed enough false info to the new President that he would also leave them alone, while he discreetly leeched off funds. With the rampant corruption, it was easy, though it had become harder and harder over time.

For now, the GRU-P was a shadow of its former self, half legal and kept running due to the connection Rem had leveraged for this illegal siphoning.

However, that would soon end.

The Bolshevik dream was dead, buried among the ruins of its failed utopia. But there was new hope, not liberal capitalism, not fascism, not communism, a fourth way. A true way. Of course, it would be bloody. He would have to sway many entities, but he had help, from the instigators. None, not even the powerful Foundation or Wanderer's Library, and its armed wing, the Serpent's Hand would see it coming. And the results would pay off. Humanity As One. He smiled, rubbing one of his medals.

As One indeed.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Is there a problem?" Asked Mugino Shizuri as she shook Touma's hand.

"No, no, sorry. I just thought you looked like someone." He said with an embarrassed smile.

Really, he swore he had seen her somewhere. Maybe, she just looked like someone he had seen in Academy City. Or he might have encountered her at one point during his time here. She was striking after all, for a military woman she had long hair, soft brown tea- coloured hair. He was about 5 centimetres taller than her, her face reminded him of those rich girls from the School Garden, exuding a calm, noble and slightly holier than thou attitude. She was dressed in a heavy beige overcoat, with a chequered yellow and brown Ascot, a rather casual and chic outfit for such setting. She had something slung behind her back, hidden it looked like a bulky black case.

"No problem. I hope we can work well together." She said with a smile, before switching to English. "Sergeant, Mr Kamijou. I have to test my weapon."

Without waiting she departed, Touma threw her a look as she walked away. He caught sight of the package she had on her back; a bulky short weapon connected by a thick cord to a small tank.

"Is that her weapon? Doesn't look like a sniper." He asked, turning to Wanda.

"Eh, don't let that fool you, that's actually a laser weapon, with a nearly infinite range and probably the most precise weapon in the world." She explained.

"Laser weaponry uh?." He whistled.

That was pretty impressive for it to be such in a reduced size. He didn't know if Academy City had managed to create such a weapon that could sustain itself with a small power source. Maybe they did but could not create it at an industrial level, both due to costs and fear that fell to the enemy. He was losing himself in reflections on his old home.

"So, how have you been?" He asked Wanda as they began to walk back to his containment.

She shrugged, she had been worried about him, especially after she learned that the teen would be in contact with a highly confidential, and as such, dangerous, SCP. However, she could not let her concern show before other members of the Foundation, especially who worked under the Kear's supervision.

As such, she kept her comportment rather coldly neutral. Soon, they arrived at his chamber, and they parted way. He fell on his mattress, sighing in relief. Now, for nothing but days of pure boredom. This conception of what's to come was broken as he heard a voice.

" _Hey there, how are you? I heard you went out."_

At first, he was destabilized, looking around to see who it was.A chuckle was heard, and this time he realized it was all in his head.

" _Hehe, I'm not here. I told you we would talk again."_ Said the voice, laced with amusement.

"Chung-Cha, 953, or whatever your name is." He growled.

The connection should have been severed when he touched his head.

" _If you are wondering how I am talking to you right now, I'll let you know that once I have established a connection to a living being_ _,_ _I can recreate it anytime I want."_

"Really, isn't that wonderful?"

That meant that severing the link would be useless and would only stop her for sometimes. Or he would have to keep his hand on his head.

" _The only problem is the range."_ She sighed.

"Well then, I shall strive to find its limit."

Another crystalline laugh. It looked like she didn't get the message.

" _You know, you seem lighter than before you left. Did something good happened?"_ Asked the kumiho, genuinely intrigued.

He physically shrugged. He had admitted that she was right concerning who rested the fault of _her_ death. And he hated that in a way.

"You could say that."

In a strange way, he could not only hear her, but he swore he could feel her sentiments. And right now, it had changed from amused and mischievous to curiosity before settling on contentment. He couldn't be sure, it was like feeling the air change in pressure and temperature, he interpreted naturally what this 'air' meant like it was another natural form of communication.

" _I'm glad you got that out of your chest."_

Sincerity. That was what he could perceive in the 'air'. He simply hummed.

" _Tell me, what did you do?"_

He hesitated for a moment, feeling the near childlike curiosity emanating from the kumiho.

"You know, I told you to never speak to me again. I do not desire to be eaten."

" _Buuut."_ She whined. _"I told you I didn't want to. Pretty please?"_

Once again, he hesitated before imposing a condition.

"Alright." He ceded." But you'll have to answer a question of mine afterwards."

" _Okay!"_ Came the direct response. _"I wonder what you'll ask, I'll tell you anything you want. My, I hope it won't be too embarrassing, I'm already blushing_ _..._ _"_

He simply rolled his eyes.

"You know haunted houses? Well..."

He then proceeded to explain her his entire trip into the cursed house, accompanied by two strange religious fanatics who hated each other, a crazy man who believed he was a god while being attacked by shadows crawling out of walls like some kinds of insects. Following this, the accident with the Bleak Heart and the disgusting of hearts and maggots. Finally, he recounted how they got back to civilization as well as the reconciliation of the twins.

She listened with rapt attention, sometimes he could feel slight fear, wonder, disgust, and also envy and amusement. As he finished his tale, he would hear a small snicker.

" _Are you telling me you actually charmed twins when you were_ _being_ _attacked by demons?"_

"Charmed? That's a big word, we're friends at most." He countered.

Another giggle.

" _Anyway, are you sure you are alright?"_

"Yes, I'm good." He dismissed her concern, which the 'air' transmitted.

While she wasn't entirely convinced, she let that slide in a show of politeness.

" _And what about your question?"_

"Ah yes." He didn't know how she would react. "Why did you kill people?"

A telepathic silence settled. The 'air', the mood, began to get heavy.

" _Well, first."_ She broke the silence, and he felt the sentiments get lighter. _"I need to eat. I can only eat human liver, other food either makes me sick or disgust me. If I could I would eat something else, it's getting stale after so many years."_ She explained with a sigh.

However, Touma could still sense her mood. Something was off.

"Is that really it?"

Silence once again. Apparently, there was more to it. He winced as a sharp feeling of rage and sadness emanated from 953, affecting him, before the emotional balance regained its normality.

" _I have no reasons to trust humans, neither do they."_ Came her sharp answer.

"Why? What have we ever done to you?" He questioned, concerned over her motif.

" _We? You are not with them."_ She spat the last word. _"You are like us, a supernatural being. As for why I have my reasons."_

However, her first sentence had unnerved him.

"You're wrong I am a human!" He protested, drawing a peal of sharp laughter from the kumiho.

_"You may say that to yourself, but I know the truth behind their words, their smiles. When they know what you do, what you are, they fear you, they hate you, just like me... The only difference between you and me is that you are used as a tool."_

The tone and the 'air' were bitter, resentful.

"You are wrong." He retorted. "The difference between you and me is that I do not kill people."

The calm before the storm. He felt the anger, righteous and long-repressed burst.

" _If they hadn't betrayed their promises, I wouldn't have killed them!"_ She telepathically shouted rage and an undertone of sorrow in her voice.

Ah, so there was something else, something much deeper than the simple need to it. So, it seemed it was the human's fault at one point. He stood silent as he heard the mental seething, the guilt and sorrow of 953 etching itself into him like he was feeling it himself.

"What happened?"

" _There are reasons why the legends of the Kumiho changed from good beings to evil ones."_ She simply said.

He doubted she would talk to him about it, it seemed extremely personal. But, despite everything, there was no good reason to kill anyone, especially innocent people. He doubted most of them had anything to do with her situation;

"Was everyone you killed responsible for that?" He asked, rather accusing.

" _No, of course not."_ She brazenly replied. _"Some deserved it, some were in self-defence, and some... were in a bad place at a bad time. But I left them a good souvenir before they died."_ He could feel her lack of interest concerning this, making him grit his teeth.

"Rape and murder, lovely isn't it?" He questioned, rhetorically.

" _Hey, hey. I have never raped anyone! I have always used my natural charms and my understanding of human psyche and emotions."_ She protested.

"Ah, so that's why you made me drink?"

" _I didn't expect you to chug three fourth of a bottle of sake, no one ever does that. At most I expected you to drink a sip, just to break the ice."_

He replied with a dubious sound.

"You're a monster." He spat.

To his surprise, he felt her ego swell.

" _I am."_ She replied a hint of pride in her voice. _"Being a monster means being someone with such power that it scares weaker mind, it is a mark of strength. But you are too, you know, I saw it, this dragon, the thing you are hiding."_ He froze as those words left her mouth. _I won't say a thing about it, but I do think they also know about it._ _F_ _or them you will always be a monster, no matter what they tell you, they will always fear you as a monster."_

No, no, there were still some who saw him as human, right?... But anyway, this wasn't the point, he wasn't like her, no matter how much she wanted to prove it. He just wasn't like her. He wasn't like her! Even if he had the _Thing_ in his arm, he was still a human! The _Thing_ wasn't him, just some sort of... monster that was tied to his right arm.

"I will never be a monster." He firmly replied. "This the end of this conversation."

" _Very well."_ She sighed, surprising him. _"If you don't want to talk, just say so. But remember, you won't be a monster, you are one. Yeollakhalgae!"_

"Goodbye."

And with this the conversation was cut, he felt the 'air' who allowed him to feel the mood, disperse, as if wiped away by an unfelt burst of wind. Finally, truly alone, he fidgeted for a bit before turning on the TV, there was nothing else to do after all.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Wow."

Wanda Carter observed the thick metal target with interest and amazement. In the middle of it, where had once been painted a target was a clean wide hole, fuming, the edges still searing white hot.

"I know right?" Said Mugino Shizuri, a haughty smile on her lips.

The two were currently in a strange shooting range, it was rather normal except for the wall behind the targets, which was made of darkened water held back by an anomalous effect. Indeed, since the potency of laser weapon was great, one of the ways to whittle down the ray was to absorb the light with liquid. Mirrors, if heat resistant enough, could redirect laser beams but it was too dangerous.

As such a very thick blanket of water was chosen to stop the laser beam from going through the wall and cause damage like it just did to the target. The water had been darkened has to better scatter the beam, clear water couldn't.

"How many shots do you have?" Asked Wanda so she could evaluate the worth of the weapon.

She would have to adjust her tactics according to how much firepower the laser gun possessed. This weapon could be a game changer, but it wouldn't help if it wouldn't work when they needed it.

"That depends." Replied Mugino. "I can change the power setting, see." She pushed a small dial from 100% to 110%. "I can choose between zero and two hundred percent, or use it in one go with max. One hundred is the recommended power setting, I got about thirty shot. I can take another power source, though, it's heavy but each of us can take one. So that would mean, thirty by eight, two hundred and forty, more if we can carry more."

"I fear there's a but."

"You'd be right, after about forty continuous shot, I need to repair the cannon and chamber, takes about twenty minutes, half if someone helps me. If I don't it might break. Furthermore, those power sources cost a hella lot and are long to produce, I am allocated one for each month, and I have three of them right now."

"I see, we'll have to use it with parsimony." Observed Wanda.

At least it could turn the tide of a battle, she doubted that even a tank could resist that.

"Other specifications?" Asked the sergeant.

Mugino stayed silent for a bit, recollecting what she knew.

"The effective range is of four kilometres; the beam keeps its killing intensity up to six kilometres but after four it's hard to aim. The range decreases with the power output, if I set the output at ninety percent, it will lose ten percent of its range for example. I can also change the diameter from one millimetre to twenty-five millimetres. The smallest the diameter the more piercing the shot."

Wanda nodded, R&D had done a good job, the weapon was flexible and adaptable. Good.

"Very well. A pleasure to have you among us Specialist Shizuri." She shook hand with the woman.

"Specialist Mugino actually." Chuckled the woman.

Wanda apologized before departing, a bit embarrassed. Mugino watched the woman walk away, a slight smile on her face, before she took a shooting stance once more, another target coming up. Her right eye neared the scope, and when she perfectly aligned the sight with the target she shot. A green ray illuminated the area for a second. Mugino looked her target, a perfect fifteen millimetres wide and two hundred millimetres deep hole in reinforced steel.

A small smile climbed its way up the sniper's before transforming into a toothy one and finally a cold and twisted grin. Unhinged laughter soon followed.

"We'll see how you survive against that you monsters!"

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Saeko Mishimoto sighed as she finally arrived at Site-17, she had been told that Touma Kamijou was well, and was currently in his room, being given a pause. When she got to his chamber, she was told he had gone to eat, since it was dinner time.

Sighing in frustration, she continued her way through the Site until she was hailed by someone. She looked to see Professor Hasbani call her. Apparently, he needed some data about some of the guards she had been treating due to their PTSD. She accepted his request since his deadline was in two hours and helped him get things in order.

As they talked about the guards, he told her something.

"Yeah, worse than those guys coming back from Samothrace. Have you heard about that thing down in Samothrace?"

Samothrace...

As Wanda Carter put back the last piece of her dismembered weapon, she heard the quartermaster approaching her.

"Heya Carter, 'was just wonderin' but you heard 'bout that thing down in Samothrace?"

She scrunched her brows.

Samothrace...

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"W-what kind of ap-p-proach d-do you r-recommend for S-SCP-07-79-FR?"

The Administrator thought about it for a bit, sending a look at O5-11, a small mousy man in a tweed jacket. The O5 nervously lifted his round glasses, returning The Administrator's gaze with a meek of his own.

"I'd try to deploy Zero. Maybe... yes, maybe that will fit in." Murmured the leader of the Foundation.

"F-fit in what?" Asked the O5, taking a gulp from his glass of water.

"Uh, uhm, nothing, just an old man's rambling, nothing important. Tell me, do you think he's the same Man in Black from 1981, 173, and the others?"

The shy O5 took a second to think.

"Y-yes I do, it seems l-like his k-kind of twist-ted art. Mayb-be we'll b-b-be able to get some i-information from him i-if the Imagine B-breaker cat-tch him."

"Well, I'll first have to pass it through the Committee, damn them!" Complained The Administrator, crossing his arm.

"Won't t-they just accep-pt?"

"I don't know, they won't want to send him to fuck all just for some poor peasant. They're more twisted than they appear. They'll say it's just a bad joke since version 1.0.0 of this guy's skip did nothing special. They'll say we're overworking Kamijou." He explained, playing with a Rubik's cube.

"A-aren't we?"

A small chuckle escaped The Administrator's lips.

"No, no, without his friend, his home this young man is left bored, wishing he could help people. This time he just has to touch a bunch of people, that's all."

"And f-fight ag-gainst one of the m-most r-renowned c-creator of a-anomalous ent-tities." Boldly added 11.

"Well, it wouldn't be fun if he didn't? Ain't I right?" Giggled the head of the Foundation.

"I-I sup-pose. I-is there a way to send K-kamijou?"

A slow smile drew itself on The Administrator's trait.

"There is, let's see if he is eager to help."

"V-very w-well. I-if you'll exc-cuse me I ha-have work t-to do." Said the O5, bowing lightly before leaving the room when The Administrator returned his farewell.

The leader remarked the untouched glass of water he had given to 11 and simply threw the water away, before making some calls.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Kamijou Touma returned in his chamber after dining. The meal had been rather fulfilling and while he had been disappointed when told that Kear was held back he still enjoyed discussion with Pearse and some of his colleague. The head of security detail had a knack to lighten the mood, and while Touma hadn't been very forthcoming he still had been invited in their discussion about the latest hockey World Cup. He mostly had listened, due to his lack of knowledge on this world's championship, and had just thrown his support from the Canadians, eliciting a cheer from Pearse and groan from two of the other guards, Russians.

"Well, if you need anything just say so mate. G'night." Proposed Pearse.

"Night." Answered Touma.

As he entered his chamber, he realized he wasn't really asleep with all that jet lag. Or rather teleportation lag. It was also pretty early. As such he simply laid on his bed and turned the TV. The programs didn't really interest him. As of now, he was watching some kind of reality TV show about cooking. Eh, at least the guy was funny when he was screaming.

After, maybe a few minutes someone rang at his door. He was rather surprised due to the hour; it was a quarter before ten. He still answered by the positive, curiosity and a general sense of boredom as well as the actual obligation of doing so pushing him. He turned off the TV before the guest entered.

A man dressed in a suit, carrying a rectangular folder, exuding bureaucracy and monotony stepped into his room, dropping a small hello before continuing in his vocal momentum.

"I was sent here by the higher administration to propose you a mission, you are in no way obligated to accept, would you like to see what it is?" He asked, in a blunt way.

Touma hesitated. Already? Another mission? But... why not? To be honest, if it was helpful to some people it was better than just lazing around watching someone scream for lamb sauce.

"Alright, show me."

The bureaucrat nodded and handed him the folder. It was red and made of cardboard, bearing a black CONFIDENTIAL on it. He opened the folder and began to read the first file.

_Item #: SCP-079-FR_

He interrupted his lecture, looking questioningly at the guest.

"FR?" He asked, wondering what the two letters signified.

"It's complicated, this means it's from the French Branch, but it's situated in Poland, so it should be under the Polish Branch's command but there have been difficulties on who it should belong to due to discovery circumstances that were strange, discovered by a lost French Branch party who believed they were in France, then there were just bureaucratic problems. In the end, the French Branch got jurisdiction over it due to the fact that they had already set up personnel and infrastructures from their branch. The Polish sent some scientists and translators to help." He explained, barely catching his breath in his monotonous presentation.

"I see." Simply answered the SCP, what a bureaucratic mess.

_Threat Level: Green/Orange (Pending)_

_Class: Safe/Keter (Pending)_

_Special Containment Procedures._

To summarise, the Procedures were to establish a large perimeter around the entity and to stop anyone from entering it or flying above it. It was also forbidden to harm citizens. Ah, anomalous people, maybe he could help them.

_Description:_

As he read Touma felt more and more uncomfortable, this SCP, a medieval village full of stereotyped character reminding him of NPCs in videogames. However, what was deranging was the fact that it reminded him too much of what happened to him and D-9341, his travel companion during Site-19's breach. To precise, it reminded him of body possession. It would seem those people were not the masters of their own bodies.

They couldn't move, speak or do anything but they seemed to still be conscious. In very rare instances their eyes would dart around, worried and paranoid but would otherwise remain frozen. The latest incident was a woman who wrote the words 'Help me'.

There was also report of the presence of an unknown person named 'The Man in Black', accompanied by a blurry photo of a form in a dark robe.

There was also a soldier from a Mobile Task Force who had disobeyed orders and had gone into the forest to accomplish a 'quest' given by one of those trapped people. He had returned after all contact had been severed, turning into one of them. A fellow soldier had lost his temper at seeing his friend like that and had tried to kill him so he would escape his condition. He had failed, and the consequence was dire.

The latest news was a graffiti that had recently appeared. Translated it signified:

_'Beta Completed. Ready to expand servers.'_

This was something that worried the Foundation, they wanted to stop _any_ expansion of this phenomenon, even more so since it could very well be worldwide for all they knew.

His answer was firm and resolved.

"I'll do it." He gave back the folder to the bureaucrat. "When do we depart?"

The man took the folder before answering.

"We do not know since you accepted, we have to pass it through a vote in the Ethics Committee."

"What? A vote! Who has time to vote during times like that!" Protested Touma scandalized. "I have to help those persons, there is no time to waste!"

"Unfortunately, they forced the higher administration to do that. I shall add your eagerness to execute this mission. Goodbye, I shall contact you later to announce you the results."

As the man departed, Touma could still not believe it. Voting? To help people? Just help them dammit!

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Psychologist Mishimoto walked in great stride in Site-19's hallways, trying to get to Touma's chamber. After her interaction with Hasbani, she went to look for Touma in the mess hall, but he was already gone. She was walking toward his containment when her phone rang.

She turned it one and saw she had a message from the Committee automatic sender. A vote? A snap vote? It was about sending Kamijou on a mission. Her eyebrows rose, she didn't expect that so soon. A mission concerning an anomalous village.

And apparently, he was for going there? _'Mr Kamijou has expressed his willingness and eagerness to help those trapped people ASAP. He has subsequently complained about the necessity of putting forth a voting system for missions.'_

Ah, she understood. If the Committee refused they would lose legitimacy as protectors of SCPs and people, going against his wish and the security of people, they would also alienate him but if they accepted they would recognise that the system was bothersome and useless and letting slide the action The Administrator undertook, which was illegal.

She sighed, in that situation, she would simply vote to accept. It was true that sometimes voting got in a way, it was more important to help those people and accept Touma's wishes than remain prideful _._

A few minutes later the vote was over. Two hundred and eighty-seven for and one hundred and fifteen against. That meant he would go.

Without wasting time, she headed for Touma's containment. However, she was stopped by Light and Bright, who without really caring about her consent told her to come with them, she supposed it was for the mission.

She found that she was right when she ended up in a military cargo plane, with Team Gamma. Since they weren't other people, only materials in other compartments of the craft, they could take three or four seats to lay on. Most of them fell asleep during the trip, except for Touma, who due to jet lag wasn't feeling the claws of Morpheus.

It was hard to determine if Jensen, the Containment Specialist, was asleep or not due to his mask. However, she saw his head slide to the side, until it was caught by a small bit of metal. He was soundly asleep.

She approached the still awake Touma. His eyes were a bit lost.

"Oh, hey, do you want something?" He asked as he noticed her.

"Not really, just wanted to talk. Are you alright?"

Should he really talk to her about the things he saw in this 'house'? And should he tell her about the conversation he had with 953? What about the fact that he now doubted if he was even human at all? Probably not everything. He knew he could count on her, but he didn't want to throw 953 under the bus, even if she was a monster, she was already doing her sentence and... well they would probably do something morally ambiguous to stop her. As for his introspection concerning his appurtenance to mankind he really, really didn't have the courage to do so.

"Oh, you know, nothing much, Foundation life am I right?" He said with a small smile. "What about you?"

"Well, I was really worried you would die in there." She sighed, sitting next to him. "I really wished I could do something."

"Don't worry." He replied. "You know, you did help me. You are probably one of the only people I can trust here. It gives me some strength."

She smiled, happy at his compliment, though she doubted he really needed her.

"You know, you still kinda look better than when you left. Did something happen?"

It was true when he left, he had a certain melancholic and sad look to himself and though something seemed to bother him, it looked like an improvement. Another small smile lifted the corner of his cheeks.

"I suppose something did. I decided to look at the future and the present, not the past."

"A wise decision, without forgetting it, the past only ties one to dead moments while the future inspires one to seek the best."

"I suppose you are right."

They enjoyed a quiet lull, now used to the thrumming of the engines. They finally fell asleep as the trip dragged on. They were woken up by the rough landing of the plane. Gathering their meagre things, the passengers disembarked the great bay door.

The airstrip was full of NATO personnel who ignored them, letting them board multiple vans, staffed by a driver who began to drove off toward a, for now, unknown destination.

Touma yawned, a bit tired since he hadn't slept a lot. He barely looked at the signs nearing the road, most of them were unreadable anyway. How did one even pronounce those? He had already trouble with the 'r' in English.

He slept for a bit, troubled, during one of his awoken moment he caught the name Białowieża.

"Hey! Hey! We're here." Said Bright.

He was shaken out of a dream where Othinus had become a small doll-like being and rode on his scalp while pulling his hair. Weird. As he got out of the car he looked around, there were in a small road made of dirt surrounded by tall trees, oaks being the most present. Many of the trees, however, were dead, some already fell.

Team Gamma kept walking, stopped at a small checkpoint with a cabin. Their authorizations were verified by Foundation guards. They let them pass and they were greeted by two scientists and a small escort.

"Welcome, welcome I am Dr Ambrozy, head of research." Greeted a blonde researcher, with a heavy French accent.

"Doctor Mynarski, co-head of research." Said the other, a man with black and pepper hair and moustache, this time with a Polish inflexion.

The tour of presentations and formality was rapidly done, in a strictly professional and efficient fashion. Touma himself exchanged greeting with the two scientists, though they seemed reserved, he couldn't really blame them.

"If you would please follow us." Invited Ambrozy.

They walked for a few metres before arriving at a clearing located in a small village. Here, the birds didn't sing, and despite the wind, no leaves rustled. At the entrance of the village was a man in a green herald outfit harbouring an unflinching ear to ear smile. That was despite the fact that he had a bullet hole in his head.

When they approached him, he opened his mouth, the rest of his body not moving an inch.

" _Nowe rozszerzenie już wkrótce! Czy będziesz częścią tego?"_ He asked, looking at them.

When he spoke, one could hear ting coming from the man, just like pieces of metal clinking against one another.

"Commandant Jaubert has unfortunately disobeyed orders and went to do a mission given by one of the instances of SCP-079-FR. The mission was to 'kill the wolf threatening the henhouse'. He went alone and came back... like this. He keeps saying this, 'New extension coming soon! Will, you be part of this?'" Sighed Mynarsky. "The Commandant from the second MTF, a friend of him, flipped out and shot him. He's been demoted and sent back to the main site."

Team Gamma only nodded at the grim sight and bypassed the man, who repeated the words like an automaton.

The rest of the village was calm, there even was a small river running through its centre. It was calm like an abandoned place, despite the presence of people. Said persons were clad in medieval clothes, but just like the man before they were frozen in place.

A man dressed like a guard, gambeson, kettle hat and spear, was floating in the air. He lacked both legs and his lower abdomen. He smiled and hailed them like everything was normal.

"SCP-079-FR-03, guard number two. One of the agents cut his legs with his pocket knife and didn't realise it. When we realised, it was gangrenous it was too late, and we had to cut the sick part. He didn't move, say or did anything Heck, just kept asking us to report any crime." Explained Ambrozy.

There was a woman near the river, next to her were buckets with laundry, they looked wet and soapy but also untouched. The woman had blood red marks on her wrists.

"SCP-079-FR-18. She's the one who has been carving 'help me' in her own skin. Well, I think you've seen enough, didn't you?" Asked Ambrozy. "Mr Kamijou, if you would do us the pleasure of helping those people by touching them it would be a real pleasure."

Touma nodded, and without wasting time got to work. He headed to the closest afflicted person, the guard.

" _Witaj, powiedz mi, czy widzisz jakieś wykroczenia."_ Recited the man.

The guard was about to repeat his words when Touma touched his head. The man crumbled on the ground, like a puppet whose strings were cut. Touma knelt next to the man, he was actually conscious and began to mutter something in Polish, eyes lost in the horizon.

Ambrozy and Mynarski rushed to the guard and knelt, carefully listening to what he was saying while Team Gamma stayed behind, worried and curious.

"He is in a state of shock." Stated Mynarski. "He keeps repeating that 'he' is there to punish them."

Ambrozy for his part had touched some of the man's muscles before delivering a more physical analysis.

"Muscles are weak, as expected from someone in a coma for several years. Call for a large-scale medevac, we're getting all of them to a Foundation military hospital! Go! Go!" Ordered the doctor to the guards.

They hurried, carrying the man with them while another one used a satellite phone.

"Sir, medivac for up to forty will arrive in thirty minutes, managed to get two of our Chinooks, it'll be able to get everyone in one go." He informed after a short conversation.

"Good, we are going to wait for the medevac so we can transport them all the fastest way possible, without making them wait. If that's alright with you." Said Ambrozy, addressing Mynarski, Light and Bright.

They all agreed to it. As they waited for the helicopter to arrive.

"Say." Touma interpellated Ambrozy, who looked at him curiously. "What about the Man In Black?"

This surprised the doctor and his colleague whose faces took surprised and questioning expressions.

"How do you know about him? You're not supposed to." Spoke Ambrozy, his eyes narrowing.

With a simple hand signal, Mynarski delegated two guards to get behind Touma. This move was an error, and soon Team Gamma's squad had ten positions and had their fingers near their weapons.

"What do you think you are all doing!?" Called Light, appraising the standoff.

"The skip knows too much! It shouldn't." Growled Mynarski.

"What do you mean?" Questioned Bright. "Is there something we do not know? We have been given documents that, by your own words, contained everything important." His eyes threw dark glares at the now quivering doctors.

"Well, it's complicated..." Began Ambrozy, he noticed Gamma's dark glares, and realized he was outranked and less useful than them, something that weighed a lot on who would be punished. "Site Aleph's command told us not to bring him up."

"Site Aleph?" Asked Light.

"The main Site and the nerve centre of the French Branch." Explained the French doctor, pulling on his collar in a show of nervousness.

"And since the French Branch has jurisdiction over the Polish Branch concerning this SCP you accepted." Deduced Light, looking straight at Mynarski, who shuffled on his feet.

"Look, it's dangerous to go after him. We lost so many..."

"You already faced that guy?" Questioned Wanda.

"...In a way you probably did." Mumbled Ambrozy. "Look, the higher administration will decide what to do with us, let's not ruin the entire operation for that."

"Alright... But we will be watching you." Threatened Light, supported by Bright.

"Okay, okay..." Chuckled Mynarsky and Ambrozy, not without a hint of fear.

After a good dozen minutes of heavy silence, the sounds of blades cutting through the air at a rapid pace and of a powerful motor were heard as two Chinook cargo helicopters appeared, approaching the village.

Luckily, there was in the middle of it a large space, like a gathering place, large and flat enough for the craft to land.

"Get ready, as soon as they open the door, you'll have to 'defreeze' those people." Said Mishimoto.

Touma got ready, approaching the closest victim, the washerwoman. The cargo rotor vehicles landed, and opened their door, unloading twelve running EMTs, carrying stretchers. Without waiting for them, Touma touched the woman. Just like the guard she collapsed and began to mumble. He took hold of her before she touched the ground so she wouldn't hurt herself on the nearby rock.

Soon, she was put on one of the stretchers and carried in a hurry to one of the helicopters. The next minutes passed quickly. Touma was running back and forth, touching trapped villagers, their form then collapsed, their atrophied muscles unable to carry them. He would make sure that they wouldn't hurt themselves, and as he did, he could always hear their panicked, barely audible mumbling.

He didn't speak Polish, but there were in languages universal inflexions and facial expressions which added meaning to words that one could not understand. What he recognized in those voices was a mix of panic, fear and worry. Not only about themselves but also about the people saving them.

He did that for a good dozen of minutes, he unfroze about thirty people, villagers, a blacksmith, an apothecary, a guard, a sage and many other characters that one could expect in a fantasy game. Which included the usual innkeeper, an explorer, and even a beggar. They all dropped their lines, going from 'Hello adventurer!' to 'Hey! Don't approach me!". He even nearly got into a fight with one of the tavern's bouncer when his colleague collapsed.

Finally, after much running and touching and pre-recorded lines of dialogue, the now free but weakened and delirious humans were installed in the helicopters. Some had been put into a seat, carefully harnessed while others lied on their stretchers, on the ground, also safely attached to avoid any harm.

However, two remained. The first was the guard who lacked his lower parts. Before anything was done, Mynarski injected a chemical cocktail in the man's body. It was an anaesthetic so he wouldn't feel the pain caused by his amputation.

He also added that the wound of the man was cauterized, and closed and wouldn't bleed, as such he wouldn't bleed to death. Touma cautiously touched him, the EMT right next to him, their stretcher just below the floating trunk.

The cut in half man fell on the stretcher without a sound. He didn't speak, unconscious but the young SCP saw tears roll down the freed man eyes as he was brought to the Chinooks.

The other remaining person was the herald at the entrance, former Commandant Jaubert. The still smiling herald was the most problematic resident, even more so than the legless guard. Because, unlike him, Jaubert's wound was fatal, no amount of Foundation anaesthetics could save him.

The decision was either euthanasia or leaving the man in a coma-like state for what could very well be dozens, hundreds, thousands of years or even eternity. This scenario was more than probable, and as such, it had been decided beforehand, with Site Aleph's agreement that Jaubert would be euthanised.

It was with a heavy heart that Touma approached the grinning, soon to be dead herald.

" _Nowe rozszerzenie już wkrótce! Czy będziesz częścią tego?"_ He asked once again.

"Rest in peace." Was Touma's only response as he approached Jaubert.

Ambrozy, Mynarski and two EMTs were here, to act as legal and medical witnesses and also to carry Jaubert's future corpse. As Touma approached the ever-smiling herald he spoke.

"Stop right there!" Ordered an unknown voice, speaking through the human puppet that was Jaubert.

Touma froze on spot, Jaubert still maintained his smiling and carefree attitude but continued to speak with a forbidding voice.

"Good. You know, I just saw you, free all my NPCs... How am I supposed to give quests to heroes, how can they rest in their long journey if there is no village to take care of them between each dungeon?"

Touma frowned, what the hell was this guy on about? He threw questioning glances at the doctor behind who replied with a confused look.

"But nevertheless." Spoke the voice through Jaubert. "You are an interesting event, yes. I shall forgive this setback should you come in the forest."

"Obviously we are not going to do this." Interjected Mynarski. "Who do you think we are."

"If you do not, I shall expand my servers, and... who knows how many people will join my game." There was a hint of amusement as the mysterious voice threatened him.

The two doctors and Touma looked at each other, evidently, that meant that others would be afflicted by the mysterious force that had kept this person in this bizarre captivity for so long.

"As a show of good faith." Began the voice. "Look to your right, toward the forest."

When Touma did as ordered, soon followed by Ambrozy and Mynarski they saw a figure clad in a long black robe with a hood completely hiding its face. The figure waved to them before retreating to the forest.

"See, that was me." Said the one using Jaubert. "I shall give you a quest, come in the forest and defeat me. If you do not, then I shall continue my game. You are allowed two companions. It's game time! Now you can free this dude."

"Hey! Wait!" Shouted Touma, but it was too late.

" _Nowe rozszerzenie już wkrótce! Czy będziesz częścią tego?"_ Questioned Jaubert.

He groaned, goddammit!

"What do we do?" He asked the two doctors.

Apparently, they had already come to a conclusion.

"Take care of Jaubert, we shall convene with Team Gamma and ask the higher administration." Said Ambrozy.

Touma nodded as the two men departed, and without further ado, he touched Jaubert. The man fell on the ground. He said nothing, didn't move a single muscle. He was carried away by the EMTs. Touma didn't lend him a second glance. He headed back to the centre of the village where the important personnel of Team Gamma were discussing how to deal with the current situation.

Bright was on the phone with someone, maybe to seek guidance or permission for whatever plan they'd cook up. It was probably going to be him and two poor souls thrown into the fray. But, if it meant catching the bastard who did this, then he was pretty eager to get thrown in the fray.

"Ah, Kamijou you come at the right time!" Called Bright, motioning to get closer. "The higher administration is absolutely furious, The Administrator themselves stepped in."

"The Administrator?" Questioned Touma, not knowing this apparently important character.

Bright did realise the gaffe he made when he perceived, from the corner of his eyes, the discreet but powerful death glare that Light sent his way.

"Just an important... official of our organisation. He has allowed us to proceed with the mission as we see fit." Informed Bright.

This prompted a response from Mishimoto.

"But what about the Ethics Committee?"

Light's and Bright's disdainful look answered her, the contempt for those words was omnipresent.

"The Committee can go fuck itself with 169." Came the eccentric's doctor crude response.

She didn't say anything, she knew the senior researchers often despised the Committee due to their interference in their... questionable experience. It seemed that past one point of experience and knowledge the scientists would often try unorthodox and dangerous experiments or inventions.

She tried to analyse the reaction of the others. They didn't care one bit. The Committee and the higher administration were far away, faceless machines of bureaucracy which sometimes opposed each other. The only administrations that mattered for the rank and files would be the Department of Employee Welfare, which was just a fancy name for Department of Human Resources, or the Department of Logistics, which allowed transportation of good and people, essential for anyone.

The Medical Department, to which she belonged, was also one of those, probably being the most favourably viewed due to their innocent and helpful occupation. The closest and most feared was probably the secretive Department of Internal Surveillance, which was more of a myth than anything else. They were said to be a secret department which took care of traitors and spies or dissidents.

As such, no one really gave a single flying thought about the clash between Committee and HighAd.

Neither did she want to reveal that she belonged to the Committee, lest she wanted to be the victim of Bright's, and Light's baleful glares and hatred. As such, she did not inform the Committee neither did she protested when Touma accepted the mission.

It was quickly decided who would be his two companions.

Sergeant Wanda Carter as the squad leader bore the responsibility, as a non-commanding officer, to put her life on the line before anyone else's. Specialist Mugino was the second one chosen. She was the person with the most firepower.

Even if she was to die, the laser rifle wouldn't fall into enemy hand and would destroy itself, melting pieces of machinery thanks to an emergency procedure that could be activated by different commands, adaptable to all kind of situations. The death of Mugino Shizuri being one of them.

The operation, nicknamed Forest Exorcism, was rather simple. Go in the forest and find the Man In Black, capture him then return alive. The problem was how to, and where to go. That was to be determined when on the terrain.

The only clue they had were two places in the forest where there had been traces of abnormally sized animal footprints, as well as the spot where an MTF who had gone in the forest had died. One could say that this wasn't reassuring at all.

Even Bright, the usually reckless scientists double checked with the HighAd, who not only allowed him to proceed but ordered him to send them. At one point the doctor turned pale when someone else talked to him through the phone, the voice couldn't be heard but the mad doctor didn't rebel. He only mumbled an agreement, which was rather useless practically speaking.

It was under worried looks that they walked to the entrance of the village.

"Be careful in there." Said Mishimoto, to the three of them, though her eyes lingered on him.

Those words were thoroughly approved by the others.

"Do I get a say in this?" Asked Mugino, who had for the past minutes tried to worm her way out of the whole thing.

"No, orders are orders, go on." Refused Light. "They're already going." She pointed at Touma and Wanda who had begun to head toward the forest.

Mugino gave a slight nod, apparently accepting, but grounding her teeth when her face was out of sight. Suicide missions weren't what she had expected when she enrolled in the Foundation. She was an engineer first, she had been one of the minds behind her current weapon.

She didn't expect the military training and being placed into the Mobile Task Forces. When she asked why the hell, she was to do all of this, she was met by curious eyes and a formula. A formula for field testing her own weapon.

She reread the thing, and realized she had taken the wrong formula, she hadn't looked at which pile she took it from, thinking they were all the same since they looked nearly identical. By signing this simple paper, she had literally given her life to the Foundation, meaning they had her by the literal balls forever. The Foundation was apparently very straightforward and without flourish when it came to paperwork.

She had tried to appeal but they didn't want to let go. When one signed up for the MTFs they were expected to serve at least ten years in this department. Dropping out wasn't allowed, trying to slack off and be fired was punished by overbearing and screeching drill masters, she did not want to do that again, wounding oneself would only add the time spent recovering to the time one had to stay in the MTF, and finally, escaping was absolutely the worst thing to do, lest one was a masochist or suicidal.

She was the opposite of that.

Those were the reasons why she was currently shuffling her feet, lagging a bit behind Wanda Carter and SCP-Zero as they all delved in the forest.

She noticed that the sergeant had a determined look on her face, hands tightly squeezed around her rifle, accompanied by a grenade launcher attachment. She also noticed the furtive looks she threw at the SCP, she was probably a convinced more solid Foundation member who considered her objective, the protection of the SCP, as something worthy of sacrifice.

She sighed, she was with a fanatic and some weird skip, in a dead forest. Great. She could only hope her baby would help, as in disintegrating anything that would threaten her, and that she would get out of here alive.

She clutched her rifle as a flock of birds took flight. She groaned, she was getting jittery, the other two looked rather calm. Lucky them. Sometimes, it seemed like a really good deal to exchange the ability of critical and free thinking for mindless obedience. Eh, but she was too smart for that.

"You heard that?"

The question, coming from Carter shook her out of her trains of thought.

"Uh, no."

Carter reached for her radio and tried to radio something to the rest of Team Gamma. It didn't work. The communications didn't go through. Great.

"I swear I can hear something." Muttered Carter.

"What are you hearing?" Asked Touma, sending wary look around.

"I don't know, but it reminds me of something. It's very faint, but definitely there. Kamijou touch my head." She said, only stroking the flames of fear in Mugino.

The SCP touched her head with his right hand but she shook her head.

"I can still hear it, but let's continue."

It was with this simple order that the small three-person squad continued. There was no sign of the Man In Black. At one-point Mugino, swiftly turned around, weapon bared, fingers on the trigger. This action prompted similar ones from Touma and Wanda, the latter aiming where Mugino was looking.

There was nothing, except for the lush grass and sturdy trees.

"Eh, probably nothing, let's continue." Said Mugino.

The group continued their way, unaware of the eyes watching them. High in a tree was what looked like a grasshopper, though it shone as the green paint job on its metallic frame was brand new. Lifeless but, in a way, curious red eyes watched the trio walk in the forest.

"Now that you said it, I think I'm hearing something." Said Mugino, referring to the faint music she could now barely perceive.

She had the name or origin of this music on the tip of her tongue, but what was it? It definitely reminded her of her childhood.

They arrived at was, maybe a small clearing, there were tall grasses, reaching around one's mid thighs barring the way. Carter was careful as she put one of her foot in the grasses. Nothing happened as they began crossing the small patch of high grass.

At one point, toward the middle of it, Wanda normally walked into one inch of the grass, when she heard music. This time everyone did, it was much louder than before, a quick succession of high-pitched notes, accompanied by terrifying flashes of black.

The music took a slightly slower pace as something came from the wood. It was a rat, though it was gigantic, thirty centimetres tall at least. Its fur was mauve, its eyes shining red while its teeth had the length of one's arm. It hissed at the three of them, shocked as they opened their mouth to say the same thing.

"Is that a Pokemon?"


	28. Rekt

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_Enter login: Three6serpent_

_Password: **********_

_Logged in..._

_('o'✿) Welcome to chatroom #general, have a nice stay! (^‿^✿)_

http: .

[SEE AUTHOR NOTES]

**SIC SEMPER CANNABIS**

_Three6Serpent: Sup, anything new?_

_kkrule: Nothing, except that bernie gonna win that netx election._

_TrainerDP; fuck off w/ that politic_

_kkrule: :(._

_TrainerDP; And stop making those memes._

_kkrule: *left the chatroom*_

_kkrule: *joined the chatroom*_

_kkrule: lol jk._

_bluntfield:* joined the chatroom*_

_bluntfield: yo, got something to show yall._

_bluntfield:_ watch-live=20190317-POL

_bluntfield: About that AWCY fucker down in poland_

_-Are you sure you want to follow this link?_ _(_ _ಠ_ ___ _ಠ_ _)-_

_**-YES-** _ _-NO-_

_Loading page..._ _＼_ _(_ _￣ー＼_ _) (_ _／ー￣_ _)_ _／_

_Loading Livestream..._ _|(_ _￣ー_ _|) (|_ _ー￣_ _)|_

_Completed..._ _(_ _／ー￣_ _)_ _／＼_ _(_ _￣ー＼_ _)_

_('o'✿) Welcome to chatroom #live, have a nice stay! (^‿^✿)_

_kkrule: it's a fucking forest alright..._

_bluntfield: be patient young padawan_

_Three6serpent: what are we watching?_

_Bluntfield: live from one of my drones in Poland. There's an AWCY dude I used to know, crazy fucker. Things got interesting._

_TrainerDP: R the 3 jailors?_

_Bluntfield: yeh, but the asian's an anomaly._

_kkrule: fucking collabo 3_

_three6serpent: bootlicking_ _**100** _

_bluntfield: yeah, but if they stop 'The Man in Black' like that sycho calls himself then good_

_kkrule: lol fuck AWCY tho, bunch of pricks_

_Three6serpent: What's the problem with them?_

_Kkrule: 'artist' who treat everyone else like shit. Fucking class traitors too;_

_bluntfield: Everyone_i_don_t_like_is_literally_a_class_traitor_a_children_s_guide_to _online_political__

_TrainerDP: kek._

_Bluntfield: wtach_

_bluntfield: wacht*_

_bluntfield: watch**_

_kkrule: is that a fucking ratata?_

_Three6serpent: Why do I hear pokemon music?_

_TrainerDP: fucking madlad actually did a fucking pokemon_

_TrainerDP:_

_Three6serpent: Hope they'll be alright though._

_Kkrule: did that fucking traitor made the fukin ratata disappear? r/absolutemadlad_

_TrainerDP: what a fucking twist, gonna call who's available._

_lesbian_gengar:*joined the chatroom*_

_jockjamsvol6:*joined the chatroom*_

_polaricecraps: *joined the chatroom*_

_bones: *joined the chatroom*_

_CommunismAnarchismNihilism:*joined the chatroom*_

_lesbian_gengar: oh great ones, will thou tell us the reason for our summon?_

_Bluntfield; wanna watch real life pokemon battles vs humans?_

_lesbian_gengar: fuck yeah_

_jockjamsvol6: got nothing better to do_

_polaricecraps: for real lol?_

_Bones: k_

_CommunismAnarchismNihilism: hell yeah comrade_

_bones:... shouldn't we help them?_

_kkrules: they're fucking jailors. And what do you want us to do? Throw doritos to distract them?_

_Bones: Oh._

_lesbian_gengar: lmao is that pikachu?_

_CommunismAnarchismNihilism; Roses are red, violets are blue, Pika Pika bitch, i'll fucking fry you_

_Polaricecraps: she fucking shot a pikachu! How can you shoot a pikachu?_

_Jockjamsvol6: when it tries to kill you._

_Polaricecraps: fair enough_

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Wanda Carter observed the monster rapidly decay, leaving nothing behind. It was a huge mouse, a bit less than half a metre standing on its hind leg. Its uncharacteristic yellow fur was its most prominent feature after the fact that it cut a goddam tree with its tail and threw lightning bolts at them.

She mentally counted how many bullets she had left in her clip before motioning her companions to continue their walk. Their steps were nervous, their eyes searching for any traces of movement. After being attacked by a giant rat and a giant lightning mouse that got out of their childhood game was perhaps one of the most surreal and unexpected experiences they lived.

"How the hell does he do that?"

The question formulated by Mugino was the one everyone wanted to ask yet no one did. And if they wished to, it meant they didn't have an accurate and pertinent answer.

"Probably supernatural shit." Was Wanda's only response, which was widely accepted.

Their march resumed, tensed and blind. They just kept walking forward, hoping for something. They had backpacks with enough rations, mostly dehydrated food and water, with rain and dew collectors, to last for two weeks, a bit more if they rationed. Technically, they would get out of the forest before that could happen and would be able to call for a helicopter drop of supplies.

However, in a way, they doubted they could really get out of this forest. It was a small doubt, which grew more and more concerning as they delved into the woods. While there was no evidence of spatial distortion, since all the dead in this forest had been retrieved, they couldn't help but feel that before them laid an infinite number of trees.

There was, at one point, a large and very tall grotto. The entrance's darkness did not allow them to see inside unless a torch was lit. Deciding it would be better to scout before using this grotto as both a place of resting and a landmark. This proved to be a good decision as the light revealed a large beast.

It was not a bear from the last sanctuary of the Ursus Arctos Arctos in the Carpath as they could have expected.

Instead it was a rather large winged lizard that welcomed them. More commonly referred to as 'dragon', the large scarlet mythical creature was resting peacefully, small curls of smoke escaping from its twitching nostrils. It was curled up, the valleys of obsidian black dorsal spines had grated the ceiling until they left deep gouge, enough to make room for them without any apparent damages to the appendages. Meanwhile, the rock underneath its maw had, in some part melted, and continued to, as small droplets of saliva splattered on the mineral, before dissolving it with boiling and fizzing.

The domineering figure of the drake rose and fell back as it breathed, the tail, finished with a long spike while a large bat-like wing rested at each side of his body, cocooning the flanks in a protective and warm way. The body in itself must have been at least ten metres in length, a bit more than two metres tall at the shoulder, gaining three fourth of a metre when counting the head and neck. The wingspan was of about twenty-five metres, making each wing twelve and a half metres in length. With the powerful and taut muscle it possessed, it was possible it could fly.

Mugino Shizuri drew this observation, as her shocked brain analysed the sight before her.

They all stayed frozen, no one dared making a single sound. They looked at each and began to communicate with signs. While it was rather sketchy, they managed to coordinate each other.

A retreat was swiftly convened. The properties of the dragon scales were unknown, and therefore, the dragon was judged, for now, as a run when sighted enemy. While it was possible that Mugino's laser would work, they ruled it out as too dangerous to try. If the legend of European Dragons were to be followed, they could be roasted before anything happened.

It was also decided that photos were to be taken in order to report this anomaly to the Foundation, so they would have a report, as accurate as possible, of the danger that roamed free near population centre and in a protected biodome.

Wanda quickly snapped a few shots, closing her eyes, something mirrored by the others, each time the quiet snap of the apparel would be heard. In a fortunate turn of events, they did not awaken the beast and managed to leave the grotto without any further accidents.

None of them spoke or stopped before the lair of the beast was out of view. There, they slumped on the trees, their hearts beating. Touma may have been calmer, used to seeing such monstrosity but his heart wasn't running at its normal speed.

"Kami-sama, do we actually have to face _that_?" Demanded Mugino, knowing full well nobody would answer her in an objective and truthful way.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

_lesbian_gengar: wth, is tat an actual dragon?_

_Kkrules: well, fuck me in the ass this is a dragon_

_TrainerDP: OwO_ ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)

_kkrules: Uwu_

_jockjamsvol6: isn't that dangerous? As in will burn everything to the ground dangerous._

_Bluntfield: it's not like the bunch of neckbeards we are can do anything._

_Three6serpent: Hey, speak for yourself dude._

_Bluntfield: I'm not your dude, friend._

_Three6serpent: I'm not your friend, pal_

_bones: if you continue to unearth dead memes, I'll block your access._

_Bluntfield: Iam the senate!_

_Bone: Not yet!_

_Bones: well technically yes, but I can cut your internet :p_

_bluntfield: It's treason then... just watch you dumb NEETS_

**A CERTAIN SCP**

The forest expeditionary group didn't wait to depart, hurried by the slumbering being. The tortuous way didn't slow them down, as they hurried past the trees, still wary of any sound and movements they could perceive.

They stopped as they heard something rolling toward them, the origin of the sound hidden by bushes. They took some steps away from the concealing vegetation, as the sound grew closer and closer. It was like something hard and not round was rolling toward them.

The unexpected answer soon came in the form of two large cubes rolling out of the bushes. They were rather large, measuring a cubic metre and decorated with points on each side. They were dices, abnormally large surely, but dices.

The faces of the cubes showed number four and two.

Before any of them could orally share their concerns or questions, which would have been met by silence or even more questions, a voice was heard. It was the same as the Man In Black's.

" _Four and Two. Six on twelve. You have failed your perception test."_

"Uh?" Simply uttered Touma, something that transformed into a scream when he felt the ground under him cease to exist.

Gravity began its wonderful job of smashing people into the ground. The slightly off thing about the ground was that it was two metres down below and was covered by spikes. Mugino desperately tried to destroy them with her laser but she wouldn't be quick enough. Wanda's eyes widened and her body slackened in fear while Touma tried to weave in a position where he would not end up impaled, a commendable but futile effort.

Bracing himself for the pain of being run through by pointy wooden stakes, Touma could barely believe that he landed on something soft, before groaning when something heavy landed on him. He carefully opened his eyes and realized that he was relatively fine, wooden foreign objects not in being his body was a great new. However, the fact that an angry looking Mugino Shizuri had her furious gaze pointed at his hands, pressing on her well... we all guess what.

He withdrew his hands, trying to squeeze out of his position, finally succeeding when the sniper stood up, a sneer still on her face though she remained wordless. He apologized in a hurry, barely calming the imperious ire.

Ojous, ojous, it seems they were the same everywhere. He was so looking forward to getting being hated by the newest member.

But for now, the important part was figuring what the hell happened. A quick and surprising analysis revealed the stakes to be nothing more than plastic balloons props. Once again, a lack of understanding plagued them.

The voice of the Man In Black gave them hope for answers, and dread of further harm.

" _I took a photo of your faces, pure art!"_ The mocking sentence was followed by cackling laughter. _"Haha, anyway, see that shit! That shit gonna keep happening to you if you fail your dice throws. Now get ou_ _t a_ _nd continue your way brave champions. The dices will be accommodated for the size of your mortal bodies."_

"When I get my hand around that son of bitch's neck, I'm going to rip his motherfucking head off!" Seethed Mugino, surprising Touma.

Uh, she may have looked like an Ojou but she had a hell of a mouth, remarked the young boy, though he didn't pronounce it. Wanda had a different reaction to those words, befitting her role as a superior.

"Remember, our goal is to capture him. Kill only as a last resort." She affirmed.

Mugino bowed her head, but her sneer was still there. Parts of earth forming the wall of the pit they were in, erected, forming a small stair leading to the ground. They didn't waste time, they knew the more time they wasted the more whoever, or whatever, this 'Man In Black' was, would only lead to further suffering, whether for them or innocent people.

The dices, once large had now shrunk to what could be considered normal sized, able to be held by two fingers and easily thrown. Wanda took them, shuffling them in a utility pocket at hand's reach.

Birds now gathered around them, observing their movements in total silence, even when they flew they were quiet, their flight only signalled by a small fluttering.

"What the heck are those birds? They're creepy." Grumbled Mugino, throwing dark glares at the birds, fingers always close to her handgun.

"Y-Ah wait." Said Wanda, raising a hand, putting the march to a halt.

There was a small panel, with the words: _Throw two dice. Two= Critical Failure. Three-Seven= Failure. Eight to Eleven= Success. Twelve= Critical Success. Warning! Not throwing dice is punishable by DRACONIAN measures ;)._

"I'll throw the dices. Specialist Mugino, accompany Mr Kamijou at least ten metres behind." She ordered, prompting a surprised look from Shizuri.

"What?"

"I'll explain." Sighed Touma, walking away with Mugino, explaining the unlucky property of his ability.

Wanda took a deep breath, crouching near the ground. She shook the dices in her right hand, blowing air on the hand before throwing them, fingers crossed behind her back. She gritted her teeth as the small cubes continued their way, before finally settling on seven.

She sighed in relief and shouted for the two to come back. When they were near, however, they were startled by the voice of the Man In Black.

" _Well done, well done."_ Those words were accompanied by a snarky undertone and slow clapping. _"Just to warn you, failing any dice roll, except if written otherwise will affect the three of you as long as you remain in this forest. Leaving it, without accomplishing your_ _goal_ _, will have_ draconian _circumstances."_ He emphasized draconian and chuckled, finding his pun hilarious before leaving them be.

"I really am going to wring his neck." Hissed Mugino. "And draconian is for measures! Not circumstances!"

Wanda didn't say anything but still glared at the other woman, reminding her of her position and mission. The march resumed, still under the watchful gaze of the birds. Mugino had half a mind to shoot them. But she restrained herself, reminding herself that probably nothing good would come out of it.

They reached another panel, asking them to roll two dices, for a test of 'encounter'. Whatever that meant was lost on the three, but they expected something harmful in case of failure. The rules were the same concerning how to succeed and how to fail.

The procedure, Touma was moved away, accompanied by Mugino, and Wanda rolled the dices. 'Critical Success'. She smiled, well, that could be good. She called them back, and as soon as they were at her sides someone appeared.

He was an old man, dressed in a poor, torn brown garb. His face was complemented by wrinkles and creases. The face was brightened by a long white beard, reaching the belt, made of a simple cord, contrasting with his bald head.

"O travellers, heed this old one's advice." He began, with an old, deep wizened voice. "If thee cast the dies, thee shall pave the way to thy fate."

Before they could say, ask or even react the man vanished, his body dissolving in smoke as a strong wind blew.

"Those fucking papers..." Seethed Mugino, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"What papers?" Asked Touma.

She waved him off, focusing her thoughts and looks on Wanda, seeking answers.

"It seems he wants us to play his game. He's like a Game Master, I think he plays by normal game rules." She observed.

"Game rules?" Asked Mugino.

"Yeah, this whole thing it's like a board game you know, with video games mixed in." Said Touma, supported by Wanda's approving nod.

The sniper only shrugged.

"Not my kind of thing. So, according to you, if we keep winning those dice rolls, it should be alright?"

"Yes, normally, but let's stay on guard though." Said the sergeant, before motioning them to continue.

Mugino frowned, logically speaking that did not make sense, what kind of person relied on dumb luck for their plan, maybe there was more than just this. However, psychologically speaking the man probably suffered from something. There wasn't a lot of sane people that literally tortured dozens of persons for no reason whatsoever.

What a load of shit. Those fucking papers.

She kept mulling about her stupidity as they continued their blind, unprepared, and quite frankly infuriatingly terrifying march into the dead forest. Maybe she could plead an early retirement from the Mobile Task Force department using this? Employee protection and all. She could be back to her comfy lab and do actual engineering. She noticed that there were some crows on the nearby branches, their eyes locked on the three, observing curiously.

"Watch out!" She was shaken out of her reverie when came Kamijou's voice.

She was startled as the teen rushed past her, behind her, she turned to see what was going on. Her eyes met the uncanny sight of a tree, twice as tall as an adult, bearing down on them. No, not a tree, a tree-like thing. A monster, its body, anthropomorphic was made of solid tree bark, vines and branches covered with green or white lichen. Its shoulders and waist were covered by brown rags while its head was covered, or was a deer skull, with tall and sturdy antler which bore some human skulls themselves.

It extended his hand toward them.

"Get down." She shouted diving, taking the young SCP with her.

A swarm of ravens, cawing and obscuring the air, forming a compact mass of black feather, sharp talons and vengeful beaks passed over them. The organic flood of avians kept going for a few seconds before the animals flew off, to somewhere.

Touma got up, dashing to the being which had dug its arm in the ground. The consequences soon revealed themselves when the ground began to shake. Cracking the soft soil vines and roots came out of it, they hit the young SCP like whips, sending him flying back.

He roughly landed on a tree, falling on the ground in a mess of tangled limbs and bruised skin. The pained sounds of Touma were reciprocated by the monster in the form of long, deep cry, half between a human moan and a mournful deer slab.

Mugino gritted her teeth, spitting the earth that got in her mouth before raising her laser weaponry. Wanda had already begun to fire but her munitions did nothing more than slightly penetrate the thick, unnatural wood composing the thing, and pinged off its skull.

It noticed Mugino's weapon and in a moment, raised its arm above its head, crows, appearing from behind it flew next to it as its entire body, and even some surrounding turned into thick black smoke.

The ray of green energy passed right through it, doing no harm. The trees behind were calcined and began to burn, and the ray climbed to the sky. Mugino's expression was a fusion of a sneer and exorbitated eyes.

"You little sh-"

She didn't finish her sentence as the black smoke advanced to her, closing the distance with powerful strides. Before she could do anything, the smoke disappeared, no coagulated, forming the monster back.

She could do nothing as a powerful swipe, accompanied by piercing branches sent her barrelling, she crashed on a nearby bark, leaving some cracks on the wood. Difficultly, she tried to stand up, hindered by the pain.

Something exploded, a grenade maybe, which tore off the monster's right arm and a part of its torso as well as chipped the skull's lower part. The skull-headed tree let out a wrathful grumble to the young sergeant who was in the process of reloading her grenade launcher.

Without waiting for the second explosive the anthropomorphic tree dug its arm in the soil, and more vines and roots whipped the young woman, sending her to the ground. Then, with a simple kick, the thing summoned another flock of ravens, that brought down Touma, who had tried a sneakier approach.

He fell to the ground the avians cutting and piercing him, though he managed to defend himself, making them vanish, accompanied by sounds of breaking glass. Touma panted, blood coming from his brow obscuring his vision. He got up and charged the thing again. There wasn't a lot he could do after all.

Useless.

This time he dodged on his own, putting distance between the attacker and himself as roots and vine lashed out at him, tearing apart the ground. A second green ray pierced the air. The monster avoided it by transforming himself into smoke once more but its timing was off. The heat of the ray set alight the dead wood on its back. It howled in pain when it resumed its physical form. Its wooden chest was burning, the dead wood's an easy prey for the flames.

The monster used vines to try to snuff out the fire, but it was useless, soon they were alight. This moment of distraction was enough for Touma to touch the being which disappeared, without taking the fire with itself.

"The forest! Take out the fire! Quick!" Yelled Wanda.

Anyone knew that letting a fire run wild in a forest full of dead wood was probably a bad idea. They also realized that the other fire Mugino has started earlier had begun to spread and that thick black smoke was now filling the air.

"How do we do that!?" Shouted Touma, as the tongues of fire grew more and more gluttonous.

"I don't know. Oh god! Oh no!"

**A CERTAIN SCP**

_kkrules: damn that leshy is tough._

_TrainerDP: wants to make me play the Witcher again :)_

_Three6serpent: IMO it makes sense, it's poland after all_

_CommunismAnarchismNihilism: they're burning down the forest!_

_Polaricecraps: those fucking retards! It is a protected forest!_

_lesbian_gengar: they finally got it_

_bluntfield: and now they'll die in a forest fire lmfao_

_bones: roll a twelve for rain lol_

_Jockjamsvol6: that might actually work_

_kkrule; they wouldnt try_

_bluntfield: hol up, the anglo is taking out her dices_

_lesbian_gengar: if she does it she'd be a madlass._

_Jockjamsvol6: a gram of weed that she actually tries and suceed._

_Bone: It's gamers A_ _GAINST weed ┻━┻_ _︵ヽ_ _(`Д´)_ _ﾉ︵_

_kkrule: lmao, I take you on that gram._

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Oi, Man In Black! Can I roll to stop this fire!?" Questioned Wanda, shouting to the sky.

"What are you doing!? We need to get the hell out of here." Answered Mugino, walking toward the opposite direction of the flames.

" _Well."_ Resonated the mysterious voice. _"If you ask so nicely, why not. It'd be a shame if my dungeon was to burn in its entirety. Roll a seven or more and I shall save you from the flames. Good luck!"_ He said, giggling at the end.

"Fuck fuck. Come on!" Begged Wanda, throwing the dices.

A one. Shit. She saw the second dice roll, roll, and... a six. She sighed in relief.

"Well, what are you waiting for!" Growled Wanda, as the fire did not disappear.

Suddenly, a gust of wind, strong enough that the three of them needed to claw their hands in the ground, so they wouldn't fly away. The fire itself flew with the wind, like a phoenix, accompanied by some parts of the vegetation.

"Hold strong!" Shouted Touma.

"What do you think we're doing!" Snapped back Mugino.

Then, brutally, the powerful gale stopped, leaving them out of breath on the grassy soil.

"What the hell was that!?" Wondered the sniper, rubbing her pained arm.

" _Yuhaa!"_ Squeaked something.

"Uh?! " Seethed Mugino, furious eyes directing themselves toward the origin of the sound.

Her eyes widened when she saw a pink ball. Not a normal one, a pink ball with big eyes, a triangular mouth and red shoes, that were stuck to the body, it also had two small pink protuberances that acted as fingerless hands. It waved one of them at them, introducing itself in a friendly manner.

" _Hayuu!"_

"Am I seeing things or is that Kirby?" Said Touma, rubbing both of his eyes.

" _Kyryuu!"_ Squeaked the pink ball, apparently recognizing itself before dissolving into smoke like the others.

The three of them sighed, and in a common tacit agreement resumed their walk through the forest, trying to find any 'roll point', as they called them. When they did, they wished they didn't, the roll failed.

They were on a rather tall hill, the earth rumbled, the ground shook, the animals ran away in fright, while flocks of birds took to the sky, trying to escape what was about come. The top of the hill grew, at least a good ten metre, trees, mud and rock covering the parts that were bare.

The trees on the top of the hill moved, falling and heading toward them as mud, earth and rock began to slide down. As the landslide took some momentum and mass, taking more and more vegetation and natural elements in its wake.

"Find some cover!" Shouted Wanda. "That rock over there." She designated a rather large, solidly anchored, stone some metres away.

She and Touma began to run toward it, but the third member of their group didn't follow the movement.

"I can't die here!" Came Mugino's panicked voice.

In a show of stubbornness mixed with panic, she took out her laser and blasted the mud falling toward her. She was successful since she managed to annihilate the dangerous mud and objects coming toward her. But, the Man in Black wasn't one to give up, and as soon as the danger was melted, buzzing green lines of code taking their shapes appeared in their place, and soon the mud, rocks and vegetation were once more.

Mugino froze as the wave swallowed her. Those fucking papers!

Meanwhile, Wanda had managed to restrain Touma to stay behind the solid rock, as it was too late to help the sniper. The rock nearly gave to the tidal wave of flowing earth but held. The mud and trees flowed around them, sometimes touching them. A small sharp branch sliced Touma's cheeks, but soon it stopped.

The ardent fury of the earth cooled down, and soon everything was frozen. The birds began to sing once more, and it was without waiting that Touma and Wanda left their shelter to look for the sniper. Evidently, she wasn't in their sight, the only things that were, were the traitorous mud and torn up trees and bushes that littered the sad scene.

"We're going to look for her, I'm calling in rescues." Said Wanda, taking out a coloured smoke grenade

 _"As long as the ones you call don't help you in finding me, we're good."_ Came the Man In Black's voice. _"After all, heroes re-spawn, well that is if they can be found."_ He intervened before any of them could say anything, leaving them with laughter.

"Well, at least we got that." Sighed Wanda. "Come, we're going to begin the search, we have to hurry." She said, cracking the grenade, which emitted a tall and thin cloud of green coloured smoke climbing to the sky.

"I'm going to dig, stay here and watch for anyone or anything coming our way." She said, taking out an E-Tool.

"I can do it if you want." He proposed, something that she rejected.

She shook her head and analysed the devastated landscape. Remembering where Mugino approximatively was she tried to deduce her trajectory, she had very approximative results, with a radius of three metres in width and ten in length where she thought Mugino was.

Without waiting she began to dig, accompanied by Touma who kept a close watch on her and his surroundings. The soil was wet and rather easy to pierce but heavy, full of rocks, branches and water that weighed heavily on the shovel. Wanda was mechanical, digging rapidly through the mud, still being careful in her movements, so she wouldn't hurt Mugino should she shove her E-Tool against her.

All this digging, it reminded her of that time, back when she was young. When they had tried to kill her mother. The police and the emergency services had recovered them when they were buried below their small house. It was back then when they lived in...

"Hey, are you alright? You spaced out; do you want me to take over."

She broke out of her memories when she heard Touma's voice.

"Uhm, oh no, don't worry, it just reminded me of something;" She said, continuing her labour.

He pressed on to take over, but she refused, it was her responsibility after all. Damn the Administrator! They wouldn't be there if he didn't send them off like that, not even evaluating the risk or engaging in diplomacy... Well, diplomacy with terrorists was out of question but it could buy time until an MTF group specialised in such things would come. Terrorists. Once more it reminded her of that moment.

The darkness, the pain in her legs and right arm, the suffocation, the heat. It made her skin crawl, she could nearly feel the rubble on her body, pinning her to the ground for hours. She reminisced the voice yelling, the dogs barking and finally the ray of the sun and the face of the Emergency operator.

"Hey! Hey! You spaced out again. Something on your mind?"

She began to dig again as she came back on earth, leaving her train of thoughts. She stopped for a moment, before resuming her work.

"Yeah, a bit. I've been stuck under rubble too." She revealed. "Nasty thing, I swear ya."

"When did that happen?" He asked, curiously.

She marked a pause, making him fear his question had been too personal when she answered.

"When I was a child, I lived in Ireland, Northern Ireland. Do you know anything about the Troubles?"

"Not really." He admitted; a bit embarrassed.

"Nasty period from the sixties to the end of the nineties. Car bombs, assassinations, guerrilla. A lot of that stuff. Irish terrorists against British law and volunteers. My mum was in a pro-British militia, Ulster Volunteers they were called. She fought with them then got into the regular army. She did... things, wasn't born at that period ya see, anyway. After the end of the conflict, there were still some hardcore terrorists out there. My mum must have done something because they... they bombed our house. The whole thing crumbled when we were sleeping. 'Tiocfaidh ár lá' was tagged just in front of our house. It means 'Our time will come' a saying among them." She spoke, without stopping.

As she progressed in her speech she began to shake, both due to the rage she felt and the renewed trauma that had once haunted her for years. She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was rather warm and comfortable.

"I'm sorry."

She chuckled, dismissing his worry though she didn't chase away the hand.

"Don't worry, it happened a long time ago. That's actually one of the reasons I got in here." She revealed, walking to another place to dig.

"Really, why?"

"Well, after that, my family moved to England, and my mum began to train me, told me I should get in the army, like her. Didn't want to at first, always wanted to be, I don't know, something else, ya see. But then, eh, I didn't want to disappoint her. Never saw her smile but in pictures."

"But why did you get in the Foundation then?" He questioned; eyebrow raised.

She hesitated, looking at him with lost and saddened eyes before answering.

"I failed. My mum didn't just want me to integrate the army, but to get in the elite, the SAS. Bloody hell, I sweat blood and tears for that, but I failed to enter. My mother used her leveraged my way into the Service, they didn't accept women back then. I was to be an exception. And I failed. Failed!" She raised high the shovel and was about to strike the ground deeply when Touma grasped her wrist.

"There, there." He tried to soothe her. "It will be no good if you hit Mugino like that." He said with a smile. "Once again, I'm sorry." He repeated,

"Don't be sorry it's not your fault." She replied with a smile. "I should be the one who is sorry, saying all of that." She shook her head, disappointed with in herself. "I overreached my boundaries, saying those annoying things and bothered you"

"You didn't bother me, it's... it's good to learn about you." He replied; a bit embarrassed.

She only nodded, and resumed her digging, her face a bit flushed. She didn't want him to see her like that and ridicule herself. For a reason, one she was shameful to know acknowledge, those words were... reassuring and pleasing.

Rotors were soon heard, filling the air with a slight buzz before growing louder and louder. A yellow and red helicopter approached the two, bearing the marks of the Polish Emergency Services.

Wanda stopped her work and waved at the helicopter with her shovel. Her radio began to emit white noise, with bits of words before a clear cut sentence was finally heard.

" _-geant Carter, do you copy? I repeat Sergeant Carter do you copy?"_

"This is Carter I copy."

" _Great, identification?"_

"21-1-14-4-1"

" _Roger. We'll be landing at the top, and we'll begin searches. In the meantime, Doctor Bright, who's with us, will give you your orders."_

The rotary wings vehicle began a slow, careful descent. The top of the hill was the only place susceptible for it to land on, the unnatural landslide had flattened and removed the vegetation on top. After calculated misdemeanours, the landing skids of the helicopter touched the ground.

The doors slid, from it came a small team of rescue workers bearing shovels as well as a search dog. One of the workers, maybe the leader, came near them.

"Bright's waiting for you inside says he doesn't want to dirty his shoes." He announced them with a sympathetic look. "And don't worry, we'll find your teammate, ah already did." He added as the search dog began to dig at a certain spot, soon aided by humans. "Oh and here, for your cheek." He said, taking out a disinfectant and a band-aid.

"Thank you." Said both Touma and Wanda before walking up the hill.

He quickly applied the chemical and the band-aid before entering the helicopter where they were invited by Bright, smiling his frustrating smirk, as usual, to sit across him.

"Close the door." He asked them.

After the deed was done, he lost his smirk, replaced by a serious, if troubled expression, followed by a sigh.

"First, congratulation on getting this far, I wasn't sure you'd managed. And before you start asking me why we sent you there if we thought that, I'll have to admit it wasn't my choice." He revealed. "Seriously, we could have at least garnered more intel, but as said before HighAd wanted Kamijou in it. Level Six Executive Order. Can't disobey that."

"Level Six, so you mean...?" Began Wanda, trailing off.

"Yes. This operation is unofficially commanded by the highest echelon of the Foundation, those orders are 'do or die', refusing is not an option. Kamijou." He called the young SCP who gulped.

"You are ordered to retrieve this Man In Black, capture him and come back alive. Retreat is not an option, your surrender is not an option, your death is not an option. Good luck. Concerning you sergeant Carter you can either accompany Mister Kamijou or go back to the village."

Silence.

"You don't have to-" Began Touma

"I'll do it, I'll accompany Kamijou." She said, voice steady and sure.

Bright smiled and nodded in approval.

"Well then, since we don't have a single clue of where is the target, good luck and godspeed." He wished them, indicating the door.

They took their leave without saying anything else. When they got out of the helicopter, they saw that the emergency team had managed to dig out Mugino. They rushed to the stretcher she was on, carried by two of them. They took notice of their fast approaching form and the leader halted them before speaking.

"She's alive if you want to know, badly bruised, sprained ankle and wrist but she'll be alright in a week. Don't worry, her weapons were with her, apparently, not damaged but we'll see. We'll take it since you can't use it, DNA recognition and all."

"Thank you." Said Wanda, shaking the man's hand.

"Ah don't worry, just my job, good luck for... whatever you're doing." He wished them before following and returning his focus to his subordinate. "Ignasky! Steadier! You're going to make her fall you damn fool!"

They observed the retreating form of the team before Touma sent a side look at Wanda.

"Are you sure? You know the helicopter is still there." He implicitly proposed.

She threw him a half smug, half offended look.

"Who do you think I am? I'm not getting on that heli. Besides..." She looked at the vehicle as its rotors began to spin, generating strong gusts of wind "... It's not because it's my job, not because it's a duty or an order, no... it's a desire."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

_Three6serpent: if thats not kawaii_

_kkrule: love can bloom SCP boogaloo._

_lesbian_gengar: thank you landslide-chan_

_bluntfield: fucking weebs_

_bluntfield: but yeah, kawaii desu_

_TrainerDP: don't forget MIB-chan_

_polaricecraps: true that_

_bluntfield: nearly destroyed my robot though :/_

_kkrule: did y'all hear what he said?_

_Jockjamsvol6: You're a good friend. 3_

_Bones: kek_

_CommunismAnarchismNihilism:_

_bluntfield: lmao, can we get an F in chat?_

_Polaricecraps: F_

_lesbian_gengar: F_

_bones: f_

_kkrule: F² for true respecc_

_jockjamsvol6: 3 F_

_Three6serpent; F, she turned away and look kinda disappointed lol_

_CommunismAnarchismNihilism: No F because fuck jailors_

_TrainerDP: Same_

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Administrator! Administrator!"

The man in question turned, a curious look on his cigar smoking face. His eyes met those of O5-10, eyes glaring, and brows furrowed, changing him from his usual meek self.

"What is it 10? Shouldn't you be at Malta?" Questioned the most powerful man in the Foundation.

To which the mousy, but for now angry and assured O5 replied:

"I depart later, but Administrator, those orders-"

"What orders?"

"The one you gave to Team Gamma, heaven, this is a suicide mission! We are going to lose 0!"

The Administrator chuckled, further increasing 10's anger.

"Do you really think I did that without knowledge of the consequences? He'll be fine." Waved off The Administrator, a cocky assured smile on his face.

"The Committee is going to be up our ass and they'll try to take more control on 0." Seethed 10, stomping his foot on the ground.

"You should get angry more often, you don't stutter when you do." Chuckled The Administrator. "As for the Committee, they still are on my leash and will do as told to if I pressure them."

10 realized that The Administrator, as usual, wouldn't budge and thus took a deep breath, calming himself.

"V-very w-well. B-but I hop-pe that y-you'll b-be ab-ble to c-contain this. A-and to not l-lose 0's t-trust."

"Don't worry, don't worry, the situation is always in my control." He said, walking away.

"I-I sincerel-ly d-doubt that."

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Dammit, what the hell is that?!"

"How do you want me to know?!"

"I don't know, just run!"

Those shouts were uttered by Wanda and Touma as they ran away from large creatures which were a blend of bats and dragons with a thin, serpentine body, a flat head, slit mouth and sharp looking claws on their hind legs.

"They're coming!" Shouted Touma as he heard a shrill cry, a sign that they were zeroing on them.

Wanda twisted on herself while taking a knee and aiming with her rifle. Those creatures were hard to hit due to the vegetation and their erratic movements, but when they attacked, they came in a straight line, like dive bombers. They also attacked from behind or above.

The first of the bat-like creature fell, two bullets in the right wing, a third in the head. Three others suffered, approximatively the same fate and went down, bodies withering in smoke. She nearly missed the last one, the fourth but managed to take it down.

The skies were cleared, another wave of enemies defeated. She removed the clip and was about to reload when two cries pierced the air.

"Watch out!" Shouted Touma.

He was one metre away from her and began to run toward her, but he was stopped when another of those beasts, which had escaped their attention dove on him. She looked up, only to see the ugly, flattened face of the winged beast diving toward her. She fumbled with her rifle, trying to put the clip back in as the monstrosity approached her, deadly talons out. She finally did and raised the weapon, but it was too late.

With a powerful talon kick, that belied its appearance the beast went for the weapon flying from her unready hands and began to plough at the arm she was raising to protect herself. The fatigues seemed to trap the vicious talon, the fabric being solid and carefully woven, allowing her to reach for her sidearm. Blood began to drip from her arms.

She was about to fire when the drake disappeared, leaving nothing behind him but a now familiar crystalline sound.

"Are you alright?" He asked, landing her his hand.

She took it with a smile.

"Always good with you."

He chuckled and shook his head, in friendly disapproval.

"I always get everyone in trouble, people would be a lot better if I wasn't here."

Wanda looked at him with a worried eye, she had heard that kind of words before. Two of those people had blown off their brain, one in Afghanistan, the other in Mobile Task Force Nu-7. Not all had met this tragic end of course, but she was aware enough to watch out that kind of comportment.

She ensnared both his shoulders with her arm, throwing him a jovial look.

"Oi, don't say that kind of thing, hell, you never saw me back in Nu-7, once we had to wrestle a werewolf to administer him anaesthetic because the needle gun couldn't pierce it. Bastard gave me a nasty scar. Didn't get casualty though, so that's good." She told him. "Ya see, I get in danger with or without you."

He smiled weakly and she continued her tirade.

"God, you know how many people would be in trouble if you weren't here, a hella lot. We're all glad you're on board with us, the good guys. Now come on, and stop sulking, you're doing a lot of good and I won't let you say otherwise."

He smiled as she dragged him, before letting him go. He followed without a doubt; his eyes now vigilant of his surroundings. He soon remarked, nearly hidden by trees the shape of a wooden panel, used to mark 'roll point'.

He indicated it to the sergeant, and they went towards it. When they arrived, the panel indicated the following:

_The Plumber and Princess Event!_

_Roll two dice!_

_Roll more than two and you win!_

"Two, well that should be easy." Said Wanda, as she threw the dice.

Touma tried to warn her that his bad luck would ruin the whole thing, but it was too late. Flabbergasted he watched the first one end up on one. The others rolled, rolled, rolled, and was about to fall on two, when something, maybe wind, pushed it and revealed the result to be one.

Wanda swore, looking around in fear of another landslide or maybe some kind of killer princess. None of that happened, in a rather surprising turn of event. Instead, something else happened. Without any effects or warning, Touma's clothes turned into a pink robe, completed by a large sapphire on the chest, as well as a royal crown on the top of her head.

Meanwhile, Wanda's clothes were replaced by blue trousers with straps, a red shirt as well as a cap.

"My pistol! The radio! The provisions! The compass! My ammo!" Shouted Wanda in a total panic, her backpack, utility belt and various pouches having disappeared, neither had she any pocket.

Touma was in the same panic as he lost everything he had. They were now in the middle of a forest without anything to eat, light their way with, or guide themselves out of the forest with. Neither of the outfits had any pocket, their appearance was smooth, surreal and felt like velvet on their skin. In short, they were fucked. Wanda quickly gathered the dice, putting them the only place she could, in her bra. Despite the lack of any flesh, Touma still averted his eyes.

"Well, fuck. I got maybe, thirty bullets in the rifle." She seethed. "Goddammit, first Mugino and now that. And now you're in a dress! Fuck! I'd laugh if the situation wasn't so bad."

" _And you haven't seen all of it!"_ Came the Man In Black's voice, startling them. _"I'm really happy you failed, I was beginning to get bored, this will sure speed up things."_ He cackled.

As the cackling grew in intensity, something crashed behind Wanda, sending her to the ground while dust filled the air. Despite that, the young SCP managed to see the cause of this mess. He had already seen it in so many things, that he recognized it almost immediately.

Of course, it would be him. It only made sense.

A large bipedal green and yellow turtle with large spikes on its shell and iron bracelets upon his forearms, completed by large, terrible claws while surprising red hair framed a terrifying but well-known toothy visage. The turtle in question was in some kind of large white pot representing a cartoonish smiling plant bulb while small rotors in the form of leaves, which looked unable to support the structure and its passenger, cut the air.

Anyone familiar with video-games could recognise the imposing frame of Bowser, sadly known for its numerous kidnapping of a particular princess among other mischiefs.

And as the villain it was, it did what it was supposed to do. In a swift, brutal movement it ensnared Wanda with both of his arms, first knocking out her weapon before putting her in his strange vehicle. Touma tried to prevent it, but he was too slow in an instant there was only Wanda's cry and then the strange vehicle which flew away with its two passengers, the turtle roaring with laughter.

 _"Let's go, Mario!"_ Said the Man In Black, amusement and smugness in its tone. _"Wait... NO! I got the costumes wrong! Fuuuuuck! Well, whatever, hurry up!"_

Touma took Wanda's rifle, he first wanted to shoot down the vehicle but stopped. The machine was already high in the sky, a fall would be fatal, and he didn't even know if the rifle could even do any damage to the flying bulb. He tore the dress, allowing for better movements, cursing the

He swore and ran, trying to follow the turtle, apparently its ride was difficult, the unwilling passenger struggling for all she was worth. However, it was useless, even without hurting her, the colossal turtle was much stronger and heavier than her.

The impractical feminine garment impeded his movements, but he ignored it, the royal cloth tearing itself on the various branches and other cutting parts of the forest. He was losing ground fast to the strange vehicle, barely able to keep up with its motorized speed.

The view was clear enough that he could see the flying vehicle heading toward a hill, with a plateau that was laid before a grotto. The vehicle entered the grotto. With determination, he set his running self toward.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

_kkrule: Run Forest, run!_

_Polaricecraps:_

_lesbian_gengar: R_ _uP_ _aul's Drag Race x Foundation crossover when?_

_Three6serpent: he actually cute w/ that lol, gonna take some screens._

_TrainerDP: Damn that was unexpected._

_TrainerDP: unexpected*_

_bluntfield: anyway this is going to get good, I think he's going t fight either Bowser or the asshole behind all of this._

**A CERTAIN SCP**

It was an out of breath Touma that arrived at the plateau, pink robe torn, the crown discarded earlier and a rifle in his arms, he certainly was a sight to see. When he had begun to walk up the hill there had been the sound of breaking glass, signalling that the area had probably been covered by some kind of field, maybe one that drew looks away. It did felt hard to focus on the hill, without his objective he wasn't sure he would have kept focus.

The grotto where the replica of Bowser had entered was a bit above, reachable by multiple flights of natural stairs. Before he could even catch his breath, someone walked out of the grotto. Clad in a simple, long black flowing robe, the hood hiding the face of its wearer was the Man In Black. He raised his arms in the air, his hands covered by black gloves and he began a fiery speech.

"Pleasure to see you here brave hero! Your journey is reaching its e- put that rifle down! You can't harm me!" He angrily shouted at Touma, who had raised the rifle.

While the young man wasn't planning to kill him, he did try to intimidate the Man In Black.

"Do you really think I haven't taken any precautions? Look!"

After uttering those words, he snapped his fingers and pointed a gun at his head and shot. The bullet stopped right after exiting the barrel, before falling on the ground.

"You see. Now, young hero, so you can free your princess and live forevermore together, have children and all that kind of things." Touma frowned as Wanda, throwing a dark glare to the man, in a levitating cage was revealed. "Now prepare yourself for the great battle." He snapped his fingers once more.

The cage Wanda was in retreated in the depth of the grotto, accompanied by a laughing Man In Black while a shield and a sword appeared in front of Touma. He wanted to rush at the man, but something drew his attention. A roar.

He closed his eyes and bit his lips. Fuuuuck.

He turned to see the dragon rising in the air and flying toward him. He sighed. Fukou da.

He snarled, looking towards the grotto, that damn bastard! He swore he could hear his cackle. He took a knee, aimed the iron sights on the dragon. He gulped. The dragon wasn't far, maybe a hundred metres. He fired two rounds, at the head. They harmlessly bounced off its scales.

The next one, aimed at the wings were avoided. Touma dropped the rifle, knowing it was useless to continue this. Instead, he rushed to the sword and the shield. The shield was a large, large enough to hide behind, green wooden tower shield with a white dragon head emblazoned on it. The sword was a one-handed one, the pommel was a forged dragon, opening its maw from where sprung the blade while the sides were made of its wings.

Maybe, maybe those would help him. He took the shield but decided to trust his right hand, leaving the sword on the ground.

The dragon was close, its red scales glistening in the noon sky. Its face showed a strangely human sadistic look. The large wings generated strong winds that even he felt. He steeled himself, lowering his knees and assuring his position.

The large beast landed in a storm of dust and dirt before him. Its deep-set, burning yellow malicious eyes boring into his for a moment before it let out a deafening and violent roar. Touma had the impression of standing next to a plane reactor.

After its show of intimidation, the dragon raised one of its forelegs, intending on crushing him. He sidestepped the large clawed hand as it hit the ground. Then he blocked the other forearm thrown against him. He barely managed not to fall, getting on one knee as he took the blow.

Dropping the shield, he rushed to the dragon, hand ready but rolled to the side when it spat acid toward him. The fuzzing liquid melted the dirt, digging a deep hole in the dirt and rocks. The dragon drew back its head, flying back in the sky, while its throat began to glow orange. Knowing what was about to come Touma decided to bet on the shield. Quickly jumping towards it and putting it in front of him was enough to protect from the oncoming onslaught.

A torrent of fire was unleashed. The shield began to slightly heat up but did not burn or became unbearable to the touch. The heat around though was enough to dry Touma's skin, sweat and water evaporating while his head began to turn. He was reaching a critical point when the hellfire stopped as a waterfall blocked by a barrage.

The monster dove toward him and he tried to reach it with his hand, dropping the shield, only for the mythical creature to avoid him at the last moment. Instead, the winged creature used the aforementioned members to create a strong wind. Like a doll he was sent barrelling to the ground, crashing on the hard ground.

The dragon chuckled as he got back on his feet, cracking his neck. That gave him reminiscence from his fight with 682, not good memories.

He ground his teeth, wiping the dirt from his mouth. The dragon used its long tail to beat the ground, the beast took pleasure in seeing its prey quiver. Touma didn't give it this pleasure, instead, he recovered the shield that had also been flung away by the roar.

He took a position, digging his knee and the shield in the dirt as the dragon drew back its head and let out another sea of flames.

"Well, he is faring better than I thought." Observed the Man In Black to its prisoner while watching the scene from a screen. "Ah, really it's so fun to be a dungeon master. Ya know I wanted to wait at first, lure people in there and make them fight their way out. But you goddammed meddling Foundation got involved." He monologued, visibly getting angrier as he spoke. "Really, ruined my fun, fuck... and you took my other masterpiece! Blinky, ya know that one statue... Anyway... Look at how much I developed the lore of this whole place." He indicated the grotto with his arm, turning on himself.

Indeed, the entire grotto was littered with book and tomes, shelves upon shelves of them, visible thanks to powerful light bulbs on the ceiling.

"I hired a mercenary to cast a dissimulation spell on this hill and spent years writing a good lore, even a spell book, nearly finished it! Look!" He showed her a thick tome, filing through pages. "All those troubles! Ah, why am I talking to you? Shit, it's been years since I talked to anyone."

The man's voice was rather young, containing a mix of excitement, impatience and joy but the words flowed with difficultly like the tongue and vocal cords lacked practice in the art of speech.

As he monologued Wanda has stayed silent, only observing the robed man as he walked, paced stomped, twirled around the room while blabbing about his creations, finally able to let out his own frustration, venting and vaunting on his prisoner.

At one point, he remarked her, apparent, complete lack of interest, though she was listening with attention, trying to find more information on this strange troublemaker. He took offence at this and strode toward her, taking this as a sort of treason, as if her attention was a sacred due.

When he was close to her cage, he snapped his fingers and her form was pulled to the bars of the cage, slamming into the cold metal. He rose his hand as if wanting to slap her, freezing in the air before erupting, letting his book fall to the ground. She was pressed to the bars as if a hundred rapids crashed in her.

"Listen when I talk to you! You... urgh! Fuck this, anyway, I'll turn you into an NPC after that's finished." He grumbled, returning to his screen.

Silence fell back in the cave, the only sounds being the roaring of the dragon and the sounds of battle, toned down by, what she guessed to be an enchantment. After some seconds the pressure disappeared, making her fall to the ground nearly out of breath.

She whizzed on the ground, her eyes down. She looked up, at the Man In Black seating in a bored fashion on a large, comfy, office chair, cold anger and determination in her eyes. However, her visual organs noticed something else, namely the book that had been dropped by its furious writer.

The two pages opened at random due to fall showed interesting and rather well-made sketches accompanied by numerous explanations and legends. The sketches in question concerned two spells, one on each page, while the legends explained how to cast them as well as their effect. However, it lacked some information on the casting process.

She threw a discreet look at the Man, absorbed in the fight, sometimes cheering or grumbling. His cheered a lot more than he grumbled she observed, worried. She did not linger her gaze too much on the man, instead of focusing on the book at hand.

The first spell that was described there was...

She smiled.

Touma was gritting his teeth, he was only being defensive, using the tower shield against the claws and the burning breath of the scaled beast. He, however, had to avoid any of the spits of acid, he was not confident in the shield's capacity to resist such destructive liquid.

He had managed to retrieve the sword, evidently, the dragon seemed to know about his hand and kept avoiding it, flying or stepping away, then counter-attacking, trying to kill him. His skin, eyes throat and even hairs were parched, dry, he was thirsty, the heat made him sweat bullet size drops and his head ached.

But without wavering, he placed his shield once more and advanced, slowly toward the reptile. He stopped his march, surprised, as he saw from the corner of his eyes, the earlier Foundation helicopter approaching fast. Reinforcements?

Wouldn't that provoke the wrath of the Man In Black? He asked himself, before focusing back on the reptile as it got on its hind legs, raising two clawed forelegs before slamming them back on Touma. The first one landed on his shield, making him kneel to the ground as pain coursed through his arms, the sheer strength, velocity and weight of the members causing damages to his own. The second scaly pawn shook the earth a sit landed on the dirt just next to him, at his right.

In a deft movement, he swung the sword at the dragon's foreleg. The blade cut into the scale but didn't reach the flesh, a second, swifter and harder strike, something hard to manage as the pressure on his leg only seemed to increase. This time, however, blood, ruby red and acid dripped onto the ground, drawing a pained cry from the mythical creature.

It lifted its left paw but used its right to fling Touma across the plateau. Now hurt, angry and too bored to play with Touma, it drew back its head, intent on burning the young man alive before he could recover. Flying in the sky in a flash it opened its maw, ready to materialise its burning fury.

But it was not flames that pierced the air, ready to burn the poor SCP but lightning that thundered, as if Zeus had decided to bring down its fury on the powerful drake. It fell, slew as if Saint George had risen and vanquished it anew.

Inside the grotto, the Man In Black turned toward Wanda before falling to the ground, a fist in the face causing this. He fell on the ground with a soft thump. He did not move or made any other sound.

Wanda took the book of spells and the dices she had quietly rolled. The book had, in a stroke of luck revealed two peculiar spells. Spectral Body and Slayer of Dragons. The information that lacked in the book were the requirements to cast them. As such, she had recited the incantation, quietly and multiple times, and had simply thrown the dices, in the same fashion and had managed this little trick. With a smile she tried to reach for her handcuffs, only to find them absent. She looked around, finding a small rope to tie the knocked-out villain with.

She smiled, feeling rather proud and smug of her accomplishment, even if helped by the enemy. She walked out of the grotto, carrying the unconscious man on her right shoulder, the book of spells under her right arm. When she finally stepped out of the cave, she was greeted, to her despair, by the sight of a stirring dragon on his stomach.

The thing hadn't gone down despite the powerful spell it had received. It lacked a great number of scales on its right flank, revealing darkened burnt flesh.

In a moment the winged reptile got back on its legs, let out a powerful bellow shaking everyone to the core before taking back flight. Its triangular, spiky head turned toward Wanda, contemplating the woman with eyes made of hellfire, the fiery hatred in its eyes directed toward the one who had harmed its creator.

With another heart-wrenching bellow, it began to fly toward her. She tried to retreat to the grotto but knew that no matter what she did the drake would either eat her, smash her or burn her. Or maybe, she could use the Man In Black?

Hostage taking... Something a terrorist would do.

As a matter of life or death she managed to swallow her pride and, with distaste, put the Man In Black in front of her, she did not need to speak, the beast understood her action and kept hovering above, the hellfire in its eyes only growing in intensity.

As she looked in those eyes, she felt her insides melt, but she held, she felt her arm weaken, but she held, she felt her knees give way, but she held.

The tense stare off was broken when another flash pierced the air. Green, it struck right in the flank of the beast piercing the charred skin before coming out of the dragon's chest. With another pained roar, the dragon batted its large wings, disoriented, backing away from Wanda. Acid blood began to pour from its mouth, and after a few weak battings, it fell to the ground, on its back. It twitched for a few seconds before its parts fell flat on the ground. Then, its body began to dissolve into black smoke, and soon there was nothing left.

Touma sighed, dropping the sword and shield before sitting on the ground as the helicopter came down. He just wanted to get back at Site 06-3.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

_Three6serpent: Well, holy fucking shit_

_kkrule: can I get a dragon for my birthday_

_bluntfield: No._

_bluntfield: srsly tho, we have to keep an eye on that guy... and that AWCY dude. I got a friend in the Hand, gotta tell em._

_TrainerDP: Yeh, since we cant do shit ourselves._

_lesbian_gengar: Godspeed._

**A CERTAIN SCP**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was it disappoiting? I thought it was. Maybe I rushed it too much...
> 
> The thing that also disappointd me very much was the fact that I tried to put the GAW logo in ASCII, which didn't fucking work. I tried many alternatives that failed. The only cool thing of this chapter... Fuck this, I stayed three fucking hours in the night to find something that would work but nooooo. Fuck formatting. Sorry about the ranting.


	29. Twins But Not Quite

Kamijou Touma, twenty-three years of age in the year two thousand and eighteen of our era, was walking down the street to get home. Nothing out of the ordinary. He wasn't working for any kind of secret organization, either willingly or unwillingly. Quite the opposite, his life was rather boring, consisting of odd jobs, undeclared payments and late rents.

It was a simple life, but not that despicable or boring. To be honest he found his life more fulfilling now than during that year he worked an office job like so many people do. The Japanese business society was not for him and as such he had left his job without a regret, preferring a freer, more physically demanding and fulfilling style of life. His sister had continued her work at their late father's company, he and his wife had died in an accident a bit after he turned eighteen.

As such, after his latest job was at a construction site at the outskirts of Tokyo he was walking in the neighbourhood of Shin-Okubo, one of the most inexpensive neighbourhood to live in. It was usually more the home of migrants from Korea and China but the rent and the commodities were cheap enough all the while not lacking too much in quality. The neighbourhood was also rather lively and close to Shinjuku and many of its entertainment wards.

This rather ordinary orphan life was very much unlike those of the several people tailing him.

He took an innocent turn, taking a small side-street to get to his home, then a second. Or he tried to. Where he once thought was a street was only a solid, tall wall. With confusion he continued to walk in the small street, thinking he may have underestimated the distance between the streets he usually takes. He did not notice the two large eyes that opened on the wall when it was out of his sight, observing him.

The small commerce's ad bars both serving alcohol or Asian fast food were closed, he observed as a sense of uneasiness settled over him. There was nobody else here. The street was dark, barely lit. The building were rather small, with one or two floors sometimes.

He finally found a street, which he assumed was the one he usually took. It was deserted, just like the other ones. As he strode onward, he noticed someone, nearly melting in the shadow, standing in the middle of the street.

He decided to press on but stopped when the person revealed themselves. The man, he presumed, was dressed in armour plates over white fatigues made of cotton while walking on traditional getas with tabi. His traits were hidden by a white scarf around his head while a ferocious looking oni mask laid on his face. That didn't really worry Kamijou, people who cosplayed weren't rare, but one thing did. That thing was the very real and sharp looking naginata in his hands. The plate on his torso had the symbol of a pentagram with a yin and yang inside, the quality of this costume was outstanding. Too much.

Kamijou stepped back, as the man silently approached him. His hand went down to his pocket, for his phone. He could deal with a few thugs but a presumed psychopath with a naginata? No thanks. The police, useless and annoying as it was, were here to deal with that. He hoped he would reach his, erm, acquaintance at the local precinct, Konori Mii. While they did not share the friendliest relationship due to numerous trouble he got in, despite his innocence, she was the most amiable face there that also trusted him concerning the roaming lowlife of Tokyo.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you." Spoke the oni wearing man, who continued advancing. "Come with me."

Kamijou did not answer, only taking out the phone, but before he could do anything an arrow destroyed the device without harming him. He looked up, only to catch a glimpse of a kimono-dressed, scarf-faced figure retreating on the roof of a small house.

Those people were taking their joke a bit too far!

"Look, I don't have any money! Leave me alone!" He said, looking around, trying to sport any other aggressor.

"Come with me." Repeated the naginata wielding stranger, extending a hand toward him.

"What do you even want with me?" He questioned, genuinely curious.

"There are things that are above you." Simply replied the stranger, only raising more questions. "Now come!" His tone became more insistent as he closed the distance.

Kamijou turned and began to run, mimicked by the man behind him. A sight made this Kamijou dive to the ground as two bullets whizzed above him. He heard his pursuer fall to the ground, the naginata and armour clanking on the hard pavement.

He looked back in horror as blood began to seep from the body. He looked at the two who had shot. He remembered them, he had met them a few days ago when he was overwhelmed by some thugs, they had helped him and exchanged a few words. Their names were Ryuuji and Atsushi.

The two in question were dressed in dark suits like so many office workers in Japan though they carried guns. Each one of them had a pistol and another larger firearm slung on their back.

Atsushi, a small man with a shaved head, square glasses and soft traits jumped to the side as an arrow whistled and pierced the air where he was a moment ago. They both took aim and fired back but failed to score a kill from what he saw. Ryuuji, a tall man with wild hair, sharp traits and a scar across the face lent him a hand as they approached, getting his shocked self on his feet.

"You alright? Come on, we have to go!"

"Wh- Ho- The fu- Y-y-you killed him! What the hell is happening?!" he stuttered before questioning as he was pulled into a run by Ryuuji.

"No time to explain! Run!" Said Atsushi, looking everywhere.

They nearly got out of the street, when something akin to a brick with... eyes? Yes, a brick with eyes got in their way, before transforming into a full-fledged grey wall, stretching at least four metres high and entirely blocking the way. This wall also had huge eyes that popped out in the middle of it, observing them with curiosity.

"A Nikurabe? Dammit!" Seethed Atsushi before taking a telescopic baton from inside his business jacket.

After deploying it in barely a second, he smashed the bottom left part of the wall, at a seemingly very precise spot. The result of the strike was, first a sharp cry of pain coming from the Nikurabe, despite its lack of mouth, then the wall-being shrunk to its brick size, before running away without legs.

"What the hell was that?" Quickly asked Kamijou, though not expecting an answer.

"Save your breath for running!" Growled Atsushi, as they took the other street, trying to join the main artery of the neighbourhood.

It would seem that their aggressors weren't done as a second man, dressed just like the first naginata wearer landed on the street, having, apparently, jumped from a low story building. His mask, however, wasn't the one of a tengu but was a Men Yoroi Soumen depicting an Oni.

His two saviours didn't wait and fired their pistols, however, the new attacker twisted his naginata in a circle and the bullets bounced off an invisible wall in front of him.

"Kintarou was a good student, a shame really. As his master, it is my duty to avenge him. Prepare yourself for death, and you, young man, to come with us." He formally declared without a hint of emotion while addressing Kamijou with his last words.

He bowed his head. The two agents tried to take advantage of that but he reacted too fast, twisting his bladed staff, defecting the projectiles with apparent ease.

"Fucking Tsuchimikados." Seethed Atsushi as the naginata user slightly crouched.

Like a wild spring, using his position, the man leapt toward them, blade raised high. With a deft movement, Ryuuji took three canisters from his jacket and threw them while Atsushi took out a grapnel.

Atsushi covered Kamijou's eyes before he could panic and run, then an explosion of white light blinded the Soumen wearing man, stopping him in his momentum. He swung his naginata so no bullets would reach him while he tried to recover his sight. He heard a clanking sound followed by those of movements and feet on the wall.

When he was finally able to see again, thick black smoke filled the street he was in reaching even beyond the roofs of the buildings. He heard voices coming from the top of the building, and silently headed for the wall, before climbing it swiftly, weapons slung on his back while his powerful arms propelling him with ease.

When he arrived at the top of the building, he tried to search for the three, contacting his teammates before continuing the hunt. Below, in the street, he had abandoned three figures, crawling under the cover of heavy smoke advanced discreetly.

Atsushi pushed a button, shutting the speaker emitting the fake sound of people running away while taking back his grapnel.

"Let's get out of here."

Kamijou stayed mute, diligently following the men as they led him out of the side-street. He had many questions, but for now, he was still trying to comprehend what was going on. He was apparently a target for some kind of organization called Tsuchimikados. He was helped by some other people that apparently stalked him.

What the hell? Why, why were so many people interested in him. What, what did they want? Were the ones he was with good people? Were there any good people?

He didn't voice those thoughts, for now, preferring to get away from the robed psychopaths. To be fairly honest he trusted the normal-looking people more than the ones that swung antique weapons around while stopping bullets by spinning them.

When they managed to exit the street and entered the main road of the neighbourhood they were greeted by a long wall. The wall surrounded them, it blocked access to the pavement on the other side of the road while also forbidding access to the two crossroads about twenty metres away. This wall also had large eyes that, once more, were filled with curiosity.

"Ryuuji! I can't find its weak point." Called Atsushi. "We gotta find whoever's guiding those Nurikabes. Come lad!" He grasped Kamijou by his sleeve, pulling him as they walked back in the street.

"Can't you use your grapnel?" Asked the young man.

"Nope, The Nurikabe would only grow taller." He rebutted, keeping a fast pace. "However..."

They arrived in front of a low story building, the smoke screen that they created was a few metres ahead of them, still taking time to dissolve. Atsushi threw his grapnel at the top of this building, pulling on the rope to make sure it was solidly anchored before deftly climbing.

"You know how to climb?" Asked Ryuuji. "I can carry you if you want."

Kamijou shook his head, taking the rope with both his hands, pulling himself up before sandwiching it between his two legs and continuing an ascension, though at a slower pace. Still, he managed to climb at an admirable speed, and soon the three of them were on the roofs.

"Stay low, stay crouched." Whispered Atsushi, looking around.

It was hard to see, there were many buildings blocking the view and they were on a small building, one of the smallest, as such most of their view was blocked. They slid behind an exhaust vent, and Ryuuji took out a tablet from his jacket, booted it and launched a program.

It was soon evident that he was piloting a small drone as a bird view of the neighbourhood was on the screen.

"The whole block is surrounded by Nurikabes, dammit, the police are doing nothing, civvies are prancing around and avoiding the block... We're trapped, those walls have no height limit." Sighed Ryuuji.

"Well, we c-" Began Atsushi before being interrupted.

"STOP!" Nearly shouted Kamijou. "First, you're going to tell me what the hell is going on! Who are you? Who are they? What do you want? What do they want? Why me?" He said in one breath.

Silence fell as the two agents looked at each other, mute and unsure on how to proceed. Atsushi decided to take the initiative. He hated to admit it but he was a bit intimated by Kamijou's dark, piercing glare.

"Look, those guys want uhm... someone else through you. Technically they want you through you. Look it's complicated."

"I don't care. I want explanations. Who are you?"

There was a small pause before Atsushi sighed and began to reveal the truth.

"There is someone that's also called Kamijou Touma and looks a lot like you. To summarize that guy is wanted and by using you, they could, technically switch you physically. It's a body replacement technique, a magical kawarimi. It's a lot easier to do if one has a model resembling what it wants to switch it with but I doubt it'd work."

"And you?" Asked Kamijou.

He was rather surprised that someone else was called Kamijou Touma and looked like him, but he was questioning why exactly this person deserved so much attention, causing such a mess.

"SCP Foundation, International NGO. We're here to secure, contain and protect anomalies. This other Kamijou is in our care. He is a very important person and must be handled carefully. As such, we can't let you fall into enemy hands. Our job is also to make sure this sect doesn't kill anyone." Said Ryuuji.

"Why should I trust you? What about the others, Tsuchimikados you called them." He further inquired.

"We don't have much time... Look, I'm Atsushi Iga, he's Ryuuji Iga. You can trust us because multiple governments trust us. The others are a bunch of self-absorbed socios who are on the terrorist list, you can look it up on the net. We're here to keep you out of trouble, they will just throw you in it. These are the only things I can say." He enunciated, looking at Kamijou right in the eyes.

A third pregnant pause.

"Alright, I'll play along... Sheesh, that other Kamijou better be worth it, I swear." He sighed. "Now, what?"

At that point, while he'd prefer to go home and feed his cat, he couldn't anymore. Not with some kind of magical sect after him. If that other Kamijou was so important, he doubted that they were the only ones after him. For now, he would accompany them. For now.

"Ryuuji, can you find whoever's controlling those Nurikabe shikigamis?" Questioned Atsushi.

"I'm trying to, I'll look on the tallest tower, it'd be a good temporary HQ."

"Shikigami, so that whole Onmyoudou is actually real?" Asked Kamijou, overhearing them.

"Yeah... kinda. Its... magic that's real, each culture has a different way to channel it and use it, something that shaped myths ya know. But most magics are similar, that's why so many legends converge around the world. Crazy uh?"

"Magic is real... woah... never thought I'd heard that one and actually believe it. Damn, do vampires exist? Or God?" He asked, as many viewpoints and facts he thought were true began to dissolve into falseness.

"I don't know about the first one, maybe but the second one is more complicated... It's something... complicated, at that point, we don't know what can actually qualify as a God."

"Sorry to interrupt your discussion about this newfound supernatural world." Began Ryuuji, breaking the conversation. "I got something on visual, top of the tallest building in the whole block. Look."

The other two got closer, trying to take a look at the screen. It showed two persons, a man and a woman, quite young; if their builds were anything to go by. The man was in a white kannushi outfit without the traditional hat, the eboshi instead bearing a white kitsune mask with tall pointy ears and a long silver mane. In his hands were a shakujō and a shaku, one in each. Kamijou raised his eyebrows, shakujō were for Buddhists while this man was clearly a Shinto priest. He had a dove on his left shoulder.

The second was a Miko with a simple red and white kitsune mask. She was kneeling on the ground, in a seiza pose, a small bamboo table before her and multiple origamis depicting various animals around her. On the table was a sheet of paper as well as ink and brushes to write kanji the traditional way. However, there were no kanji on the sheet, instead, there were grids, some filled with black ink while a few numbers could be seen sometimes.

"You're kidding me... That's a game of Nurikabe. She is directing those yokais by playing the game? " Asked Atsushi, rhetorically.

Nurikabe was a Japanese paper puzzle game consisting of filling cells according to complex rules, where one had to make a continuous line of black cases while leaving space around some grid which required between One and four grids to be filled by a single spot of black. To win all of the cells needed to be filled either by a single black spot or to be fully coloured black.

"Looks like it. Let's move, if we can destroy this sheet of paper then the blockade of Nurikabe should be lifted."

While Kamijou silently doubted that destroying a piece of paper would remove literal wall demons he kept quiet, they knew more about magic than he did, so for now, he would trust them...

"How are we going to climb up this tower, it's dangerous with your grapnel." Stated Kamijou.

"Don't worry, I have a failproof plan."

…

Technically, he wasn't wrong, thought Kamijou as the elevator did its job at transporting them from the first to the last floor. They had just crept to the building in question and with a skeleton key had managed to access it.

He tapped his foot at the pace of the rapid but tranquil tune emitted by the elevator's speakers, surrounded by the two agents, sunglasses and black ties on, their submachine guns out and ready to fire.

The final floor was soon reached and the door opened to a small and calm corridor with one door leading to an apartment and a flight of stair that led to another door. Kamijou was ordered to stay in the corridor while the two men began to discreetly climb the stairs.

When they arrived at the door leading to the roof, Ryuuji took out two grenades before nodding. Atsushi pushed the door, catching a glimpse of their target, and Ryuuji threw the two grenades, before closing it swiftly. The first explosion, a blinding flash was followed by a detonation and hot piece of metals flying through the air.

Without waiting for their, maybe still alive targets to recover they kicked the door open, and sprayed the entire area, which was masked due to the dust the explosives had lifted, before them with their firearms. After emptying their entire clip, the two stopped and reloaded, still aiming.

When the cloud of dust disappeared, they saw that their two targets were not harmed in the slightest. The priest had simply tapped his shakujō on the ground and a golden barrier, emblazoned with a stylize sakura flower had risen, protecting them. The kannushi had Phra Somdej amulets hanging on a necklace around his neck.

Behind him, the young Miko had turned her masked face toward them, and still in seiza took two origamis, a fox and a raven before throwing them. She made a sign with her right hand, joining the little finger and the ring her with her thumb while raising the remaining ones.

The two origamis turned into their real-life counterpart, though the crow was much bigger, approximatively the size of the fox. This one was white with red hues around the eyes, ears and the tail. Their form was a bit transparent, spectral, they could see the origamis in them.

The two animals had a thing blue aura around them with a filament that departed from them, joining the young Miko. The priest for his part stayed still, not moving an inch.

"Tch, fucking Tsuchimikados." Grumbled Ryuuji as they opened fire on the summoned beasts.

The bullets, glowing strangely, dissolved the parts that they hit like their body was made of smoke but it didn't seem to hinder the anomalous animals. However, after their origamis were hit, they disappeared, a deep whine filling the air for a moment.

They began to target the golden shield but this time their bullet did nothing, not even scratching the protection as they harmlessly bounced off it.

"Shitty Buddha..." Seethed Ryuuji as he reloaded his MP.

"Ye-"

Atsushi didn't have time to say anything when he was thrown to the ground, tackled by his friend as an arrow whistled where his head had been a second earlier. On a nearby building, slightly less tall than the one they were on was a man dressed like the earlier naginata wielders but with a Hyottoko mask. As silly as the mask was, the bow it was holding wasn't any less threatening, being one of those terrible Japanese longbows.

Unfortunately for the archer, he didn't have neither protection charms nor time to prepare another arrow when a hail of bullets tore his right arm apart, he barely had time to take cover to avoid death. Fortunately for our agents, he was now out of the fight, trying to slow down his bleeding and unable to use his Yumi, his bow.

As the agents tried to figure out a way to destroy the sheet of paper that kept them prisoners, while suppressing the shrine maiden and the priest, destroying the origami-made animals that the former summoned.

Meanwhile, Kamijou was beginning to get worried and torn between staying where he was and helping them. However, he still doubted he could do anything to break the deadlock. He had no power.

His internal conflict was cut short when he heard something climb the stairs of the building, no, climbing wouldn't do justice to the speed this... being was going at that. Soon, the newcomer had ascended from the ground floor to the top one.

Kamijou stepped back as he took in the sight of his earlier aggressor, the second naginata wielder, the one they had escaped from.

"Out of my way child, lest you want to lack your arms or legs, I assure you we can still keep you alive as such." Threatened the man, proudly striding toward the stairs Kamijou was in front of.

Kamijou gulped, his right foot taking a step to the right, ready to let the man forward without any resistance. However, he did not move the other, something, himself, refusing to do so. Why?

"Do not try my patience boy." Growled the Tsuchimikado.

Why? Why didn't he want to move? His life was on the line. He gritted his teeth and assumed a boxing position, bringing his fists forward and rounding his back. Behind his mask, the man raised an eyebrow before this unexpected if weak resistance. In a simple, swift movement he swung his naginata, cutting without any resistance the wall just next to Kamijou. A bit of the wall slid off, falling on the ground.

Maybe he knew why. There were two people behind him, two people that had saved him twice. And before him, he had someone that would probably kill him in the ned, no matter what. If he died, he would do so on his feet, not on his knees.

He threw a punch.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Kamijou Touma cracked his neck as the elevator descended. He was back at Site-17, back to relative safety, and in his usual orange SCP garb. He sighed. The last hours had been rather rough, trudging through a dead forest, getting attacked by things that literally came out of video games, survived a landslide and fought off a goddamn dragon.

The man behind all of this, surprisingly young and weak was part of a group called 'Are We Cool Yet?'. His motive, suspected to be fuelled by drug abuse and an abnormal psychological condition, was to, in his own words 'make the best goddamn game in the whole damn world that even that goddamn Witcher game would be a fucking joke next to that'. The man was a self-proclaimed artist who had coded thousands upon thousands of creatures, interactions and even natural events.

It would seem that his magic allowed him to materialize what he coded. Unfortunately for the Foundation, or rather fortunately for the world, they barely had time to inspect it before, billions of lines and trillions of characters were erased, never to be recovered. With them disappeared the dragon, topographic change that The Man In Black had caused to the forest as well as the spell book that Wanda had used to take down the dragon for the first time.

Speaking of her, she was right next to him, he turned his head, looking at her. She reciprocated his look, and the two smiled.

He wouldn't be here if she hadn't used this lightning spell. Too bad she couldn't anymore.

He also had to thank Mugino. She had been very helpful despite her state, managing to shoot the dragon with her laser rifle from the helicopter and in spite of a severe headache caused by a concussion. It was a miracle that she had woken up. Well, a drug helped the miracle, Bright had many a medications on his person.

The elevator finally reached the ground floor, and they were greeted by Pearse, the head of his security detail.

"Heya, Carter, Kamijou first things first could you report to the Medical Station? Sorry to bother you as soon as you arrive." He said in an apologising tone, scratching his beard. "Corporal, show them the way please, I have important stuff to settle."

Without waiting for an answer, he left them. Bright and the other members of Gamma dispersed to take care of their own businesses. The corporal didn't wait for their confirmation, taking the lead, heading straight to the Station.

There, they received minor but long medical checks, mostly concerning their motor functions. Finally, the medical staff let them go after filing many forms. To be honest, Touma felt that it was pretty useless since they already had those in the plane during his trip back to Site-17. They were then instructed to go to Meeting Hall Four. He shared his thoughts with Wanda as they were walking back to his containment, their fast walking guide a bit far.

"Yeah, it's a pretty much useless procedure, swear to you they just keep putting more." She sighed, before apparently realizing something. "Say, I never thanked you for rescuing me, sorry about that. Thank you." She said, with a sincere smile.

Touma was about to answer when their guide cut him.

"Look, I got a message, something came up. Take the first corridor to your right, it's the only door there. I trust you to watch him, sergeant Carter." Said the corporal, and without waiting for their answer, left them.

As they walked forward, he reignited their earlier conversation.

"It's useless to thank me if you hadn't taken down the Man In Black and the dragon we wouldn't be here." He argued.

"You know, for a moment I really felt like a kidnapped princess, I was so ashamed of myself because I was so useless. I thought I'd die here, I nearly gave up" She sighed. "But when you came, when I saw how you fought against this... thing. That gave me so much hope. So no, I should thank you." She said.

The two smiled, maybe, just maybe, moving a bit closer.

"Though I have to admit, you made a great princess Touma." She chuckled.

"Urgh, Bright pestered me enough with that, thank you." He sighed with a grin, remembering the unrelenting tease of the researcher.

"No really, made you even cuter than usual." She teased.

"Because I'm cute?" He replied in an unusual feat of playfulness.

"Of course." She bashfully replied.

And while he was unusually bold, such words still managed to make his ears and cheeks redden. They finally ended up outside the hall, she opened the door, expecting a simple meeting for formalities but something else awaited.

Or rather multiple people awaited them. Lined in two ranks, nearly shining in their clean and sharp black and silver ceremonial uniforms were the member of Team Gamma, minus Mugino, Dr Bright and Light, both holding a box, still in their lab coat were at the end of the lines, and between them was Site Director Kear, a smile splitting his features.

The two stopped, unsure as to what was happening as the members of Team Gamma saluted, rifles on their shoulder and held by the butt.

"Come, come." Incited Kear, clearly amused by their reaction.

Hesitantly they both advanced until Wanda finally realized what this was, taking a more assured stance, urging Touma to do the same.

When they arrived in front of Kear, he cleared his throat and addressed them.

"First, I'd like to apologize for the suddenness of this, as well as the less than satisfactory setting, but this the best I could do since you are not an official unit, anyway, I digress." He took a deep breath, before speaking in the most serious and formal tone Touma had heard from him. "SCP-0000, aka Kamijou Touma, Sergeant Wanda Carter, your recent acts in face of certain dangers as well as your helpful initiatives have been recognised by the Foundation as commendable and admirable. As such, the Department of Mobile Task Forces and the Higher Administrative Department have agreed upon the distribution of awards."

He waited a bit, observing their reactions. While Wanda had a proud and satisfied look, Touma had a meeker and more unsure look. Kear smiled.

"SCP-0000, Touma Kamijou, for bravery, selflessness, heroic deeds and personal sacrifices, especially concerning your neutralization of SCP-1983, SCP-682 and SCP-079-FR and its sub-anomalies you have been awarded the Foundation Cross of Gallantry and Heroism, First Class." He signalled bright to come closer.

The scientist took a few steps and opened the box, revealing a rich medal, made of a golden cross, with the Foundation sigil on it, a shield in the centre, in the middle of it a Medieval close helmet, crossed swords behind the cross and with wreaths of laurels surrounding the cross. Above the medal, between the cross and the ribbon was a banner with the words 'Gallantry and Heroism'.

Kear took the medal and pinned the service ribbon, black and silver, on Touma's uniform.

"Congratulations." He said with a genuine smile, shaking Touma's still dazed and unsure hand.

"Sergeant Wanda Carter, for superior and enduring services as well as your willingness concerning the protection of civil populations and your soldiers' you are awarded the Foundation Heart of Merit, Second Class. You are also eligible for a promotion to Sergeant Major should you wish to. Congratulations." He solemnly announced, Light giving him the medal before he pinned it, a red heart with a silver outline, a silver Foundation sigil inside and above the heart a banner made of silver with the words, 'Honour and Merit'.

When that was finished the members of Gamma applauded, Kear and the two scientists too. Touma didn't really know how to react, while he once had been in the presence of royalty, he never had been formally awarded any decorations or anything. While he was very doubtful of the utility of such a thing. Was there really any need to give him a bit of metal for something he would have nevertheless done? It wasn't something special, it was his responsibility, his duty as keeper of the Imagine Breaker, as someone who could prevent terrible anomalous events.

But, as the applause died down, it did feel, kind of, good to be recognised and awarded. Not that if he wasn't, he wouldn't do it... But he caressed the cross, those kinds of bonus were not unwelcome, they were simply another form of thanks, if not over the top, but he wouldn't refuse it.

Kear came to him.

"Come, young man, I have to talk to you about an important matter, come, come." He said, putting his arm behind Touma and guiding him further in the meeting room.

He saw from the corner of his eyes that Wanda tried to approach him, only to be stopped by Bright as he congratulated her. The members of Team Gamma soon left, disappearing in a discreet and orderly manner.

Kear sat at a table and invited Touma to do the same. When he was seated, Kear took the initiative to talk.

"First, once again, congratulation on both your successes during your latest mission and for your award truth be told I think you're the first SCP to be awarded the same way a Foundation agent would." He said, closing his eyes and nodding before opening them back. "I also have another important news for you..." He trailed off.

His tone didn't reassure Touma who looked at him with a quizzical and apprehensive look.

"... We have launched researches concerning yourself, or rather the other you."

"The other me?" He questioned, raising a brow.

"Yes, as a dimensional traveller you do possess a dimensional double. We have found him."

While Touma did try to maintain a neutral, but inquisitive face he failed at hiding both his growing interest and shock. A double? Someone like him? Unbelievable. Was he also a possessor of the Imagine Breaker? What happened to him? What about the others? What about Tsuchimikado? Misaka? Index? Or even Othinus... so many...

"Do you wish to know what he's become?" Asked Kear, frowning and catching his attention. "It will not be what you hope for." He added in a sombre tone.

Touma hesitated before his curiosity got the best of him. He nodded, allowing Kear to reveal the activities of his other self, but Kear wasn't quite eager.

"Are you sure?" Asked the old man. "You will be more than extremely disappointed." He warned as if he did not want Touma to know.

But the young man didn't back down, now intrigued by whatever this other Touma had done. The Director sighed, taking an envelope from a case at his feet.

"Here, read this." He handed him the envelope, a sorry look on his face, before turning away when Touma took it.

Worried by curious the young SCP opened it and took out the first document, a photo of him. Except it wasn't him despite the fact that the two had the exact same face, traits for traits since the photo was captioned from two thousand twelve. But he never had that shirt.

The next document was also another photo, where, despite recognising himself, maybe a bit older, he knew this Kamijou wasn't him since he had never been arrested by the Tokyo Metropolitan Police for brawling in the street.

Uh, at least they got something In common: getting in trouble.

The next document made him drop his smile and the aforementioned document.

It was a koseki, a registry where one registered the condition of a citizen. It was rather normal, however, one section that shouldn't have been filled was.

Death.

_Kamijou Touma has expired on the 26/11/2012, on the twenty-fourth (24) year of the Heisei Era, at the Tengoku Kyanserā hospital. Causes of death: Large loss of blood due to multiple stab wounds after a violent altercation, suffered during the night of the twenty-fifth (25). Died overnight in intense medical care._

Touma opened his mouth to speak, gulping hard.

"Wh-what?"

"I'm sorry." Said the Director thought it wasn't for the same reason. "Really, we didn't think we'd find that..." He sighed, it was hard for him to say that.

"..."

"You know, he was a good person, it happened because he wanted to protect someone, it just went overboard."

"I-I see... Well, at least it wasn't totally useless. W-what about my parents?"

"Also in the envelope." Indicated Kear.

This time Touma hesitated, Kear's look was the same, no worse, that when he announced his willingness to see the files about his other self.

Two others koseki, accompanied by their pictures, which confirmed the truthfulness of the documents, were soon in his hand. He wanted to... scream, just scream when he read them.

Death.

_Kamijou Touya (with his spouse Kamijou Shiina) has expired on the 28/08/2015, on the twenty-seventh year (27th) of the Heisei Era, on the National Route One (1), near Osaka. Cause of death: Deadly road traffic accident causing: The breaking of multiple bones, including the spine, and fatal internal blood loss._

"I am so, so sorry my boy." Whispered Kear with sincere sadness.

Touma deeply breathed in, before exhaling.

"N-no reason to. Thank you for telling me the truth." Said Touma.

Kear felt his heart tinge with guilt, he suppressed a disgusted grimace, instead, showing a sad, empathic smile.

"You're taking it... rather well." He observed.

Touma shrugged.

"It's not like I can do anything else... It's... well you know..."

"I understand. But, to be honest, Touma, there is another reason I showed you those."

Another guessing look settled on the boy's face as he tried to think of other reasons.

"The last document in the envelope, if you would." Said Reynard.

Once more digging in the small container, he took out an A4 sheet with many photos on it. Multiple people that resembled him if he were older, people that could be confused with him, even himself doubted if one or two weren't an older version of him with a different hairstyle.

"Look, there already some organisations out there who knows your face, some have already hired or taken some of those men to act as your doubles. Their reasons vary, some want to make others think they have you, others want to use them as leverage to get at you, using your sympathy for your other selves. Anyway, do not trust any photos or reports of a 'recent' Kamijou Touma, they are fake. Do you understand?" He told him, speaking very seriously with steely eyes.

"Yeah, alright, I see. But you would have told me even if those others weren't used to get to me, right?"

"I think such information shouldn't be withheld." Nodded Kear, though not really giving his answer.

"Does everyone in my world has a double here?"

Kear took a moment to reflect on the matter before answering.

"I do not think so, there are still differences between yours and mine, as such there might be several people you know that do not exist in this world. It's already a miracle that the other you existed in this world. There is also the fact that even if they existed, they may be extremely different from the ones you know." Explained the old man. "If you allow me to be honest, I'd advise you not to ask for further information, first because we are technically breaching privacy policies and the second because I do think it would be further disappointing."

Touma nodded, agreeing with the Director's arguments. To be honest, he was more concerned with how his self and family fared. The others had their own lives and he wasn't interested in prying in their businesses. At least he wouldn't be surprised if he encountered a carbon copy of one of his acquaintance.

"I'm glad you understand. Now, I'm sorry to be so brusque but my schedule is very busy if you'll excuse me. And once again, congratulation. Oh, and put your medal in your pocket, keep it to yourself, this is to remain a secret, alright?" Said Kear as he got up and headed toward the door.

"Yes, of course." Replied Touma. "Good day."

Truth to be told Touma wouldn't have waved his medal around anyway. It wasn't the most respectful thing to do, it was more embarrassing than honouring. He preferred not to have the attention. He got up, following Kear's lead, who was already in a serious conversation with a scientist.

Touma followed two guards who led him back to his containment. When he arrived, he laid in his bed, taking out the award that shone under the light above. Now, he doubted they would be deployed soon again since the interval between his two last missions was ridiculously short.

He wondered if 95-

" _Helloooo there, how did it_ _go_ _?"_ Came the voice from the Kumiho SCP, her voice rather eager.

Talking about the fox... He sighed and answered.

"Worse than I wished, better than I feared." He answered earnestly.

" _So_ _,_ _what was it this time? Let me guess, an ancient and devilish creature? Did it fly?"_

"You're not far from it." He soberly answered. "There was a dragon involved."

_"A dragon? As in, a large, scaly, flying beast able to breathe fire?"_ Excitation filled her questioning voice, as if she was a child, eagerly awaiting a knight's tale.

"Yes. Unfortunately... It also spat acid."

Truly, he would prefer calmer adventures sometimes.

" _Well, well, you're such a brave knight to slay it, would you like a reward from me?"_

Touma smiled, ironically, he had been more the princess than the knight but that didn't matter.

"I'll be alright, thank you. I didn't do it alone, I didn't even touch it one bit."

Well, if he could have it would have been over far quicker.

" _What else? What else happened, I feel your tension, there's been a lot going on... didn't it?"_

Bit by bit, at her insistence he began to tell and confess some part of his mission, excluding the fact that he had been in a dress. During his tale, she often observed that he was hiding something out of pure embarrassment and tried numerous times to make him confess, using different tactics each time. He told her of his awards, after all, she wouldn't mouth off to anyone and he felt a bit... talkative today.

" _You were awarded? Well, well, well, Mr Kamijou is getting fine and dandy with the humans."_ She commented with a laugh.

"I am human." He deadpanned, once again reaffirming his appurtenance to Homo Sapiens.

No really, he was human. Just with some... _things_ in his arm but he was human. Of course, he was. Right? Right.

" _Yes, yes, of course."_ There was a sarcastic undertone in her voice which he decided to ignore.

While she was indeed annoying him with her remarks upon his supposed lack of humanity, he preferred to ignore her like a big peaceful dog would ignore the barking of a smaller dog. It sure hurts his ears sometimes, but, unlike the big dog, he couldn't chase her away. As such, he endured, preferring to endure and guide the conversation away from this topic.

"Anyway, I don't think I'll be deployed any time soon, we still have a member who is yet still severely wounded."

Despite her timely and fortunate intervention, Mugino Shizuri hadn't recovered from the nearly fatal incident she had been involved in. It truly had been a miracle that she had managed to shoot. She had said, shortly after waking up and in a venomous voice, that she was definitely going to 'pay that bitch back'.

" _That's good, you know, I'm quite bored when you're not here."_ She managed to whisper through the link, as if her mouth was just next to his ear, her voice small, even plaintive.

"Oh, poor you." Replied Touma, acidly sarcastic.

" _You know, just to stave off the boredom I might even propose my service."_ She said, her tone offhanded but the 'mood' the link gave off was hinted with a pike of seriousness.

He stayed silent, his traits morphing in a replica of those he had when he first learned the existence of magic, amused and surprised disbelief.

"Really, the oh so great, human-hating fox princess would serve the Foundation?"

" _I never said I was a princess, fu fu, but thanks."_ She giggled, teasing.

"Well you sure act like a spoiled one, but that does not answer my question." He countered, deciding to guide the conversation away from his gaffe.

" _Well, you know, maybe I can get more food and better quarters, they told me that if I was a good girl_ _,_ _they'd give me more leeway."_ She said, the 'good' full of irony.

"This method doesn't work apparently." He observed, his remark dry.

" _Yeah, but with this, I could, maybe be a bad girl and still earn those privileges."_

"I doubt they'd let you participate." He observed.

Truth to be told he did think that they would if they had used The Shadow: the one who had possessed his body, then... they might as well use her. However, he preferred to keep her away from the outer world, both for the security of many, many people in the world but, in a way for hers. It was a dangerous world out there, and even if he had no love for her, he would still feel bad should she die.

" _I know you're lying."_ She remarked, startling him slightly. _"Aww, you worry_ _for_ _about_ _me, don't you? How cute!"_ The honeyed words that she sent only managed to irritate the young man.

"As if! I'm more worried about the safety of humanity than yours." He denied.

After all, that was the truth.

" _Of course, of course... But, ah, you must be tired, I will leave you be_ _,_ _should you wish to."_ She finally proposed.

"I think you know my answer."

" _I'm so sorry_ _, I_ _know you terribly miss me when I am not with you, but really you should rest. Kkuljam."_ She bid him before the telepathic link vanished.

In her containment, SCP-953 laid sprawled on her bed, a yawn spilling from her blood red lips, which she licked, savouring the taste of the colour's namesake. A smile, jagged but soft drew itself on her face.

Maybe she could really do as she had said. She was quite a talented infiltrator and killer. While it would technically hurt her pride, she knew that sometimes it was better to be pragmatic. If she could get a or some deals, she might even be able to relax her security and thus facilitate an escape, especially when out of the facility.

It could also very well cure her boredom, she sometimes missed the thrill of hunting, danger and feeling the sweet convulsion of her prey as she bit into its flesh, the feeling of warm blood as it slid down her throat, like a hot ambrosia, when she felt the musk of fear and despair emanating from her prey. Yes, those feelings, those innate desires, long repressed. Yes, she was good at controlling herself, her youth was proof of that. There was a time... Ah, what a time.

She was a monster. And she was enjoying every last second of it. They had made her like that after all, those damn humans.

She looked at the inter-phone. Yes, fresh air might do her some good. She wondered what face he would do when he would see that she was his comrade. Yes, that job might even get her closer to him... So much amusement.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

Kamijou Touma sighed in relief as his opponent slid down the wall, his mask cracked, before falling on the ground and remaining motionless. A pained hiss involuntarily escaped his lips as he moved a deep cut arm. It wasn't the only wounded part, dozens of places on his body bled, small streams of blood dripping down, like a new, outer, blood vessel system.

He wiped the blood dripping on his eyes, coming from a wound inflicted on his forehead and contemplated his handiwork, his posture relaxing. The aggressor laid motionless, his weapon discarded a few metres away from him, disarmed by a well-placed blow.

Kamijou had never faced such terrible foe, swift, merciless and with an unstoppable weapon, he had been his most challenging duel. He felt like David facing Goliath, but without his sling, just with his bare arms. In the end, his endurance and his opponent's fatal hesitation at taking full advantage of a potential killing blow had allowed him to place a series of incapacitating blow. The wounds he had suffered were very precise, slims if sometimes a bit deep.

Without waiting for the man to wake up, he took his naginata and climbed the flight of stairs to the roof. During his minutes of fighting the sounds of repeated firing had not stopped, sometimes intensifying. They were sometimes accompanied by the cries of animals. To be crude, it sounded more like a shooting stand thrown into a circus than anything else.

When he slammed the door opened, he was greeted by the sight of his two companions of fortune firing at yellow wolves surrounded by a field of blue translucent energy, linked to a young girl who seemed frozen in concentration while she was hiding, next to a Shinto priest, behind a golden bubble emblazoned by sakura flowers.

Right now, he would like to go back in time and slam his naïve self that, no, shonen mangas weren't actually fun to experiment first-hand. Seriously, it sounded like someone had mixed Tokyo Raven with the Fate series and real life. His body reminded him that it was a lot less funny than expected.

As the last wolf was destroyed, in a surprisingly short amount of time, Atsushi took a look behind him and his face first split with a smile then with a grimace as he took in his state.

"Well, I'm happy you're alright, but damn, you actually don't look alright." Observed the small man.

"Wow, I just took down a fucking samurai and that's my welcome?" He rhetorically asked.

"Not a samurai, a warrior monk." Objected Ryuuji.

"Whatever! What do we do?" He pointed at the two traditionally dressed person with his chin.

"Well, our piercing bullets just bounce off the damn thing, so... I don't know. And she still has about, uh... a lot of those origamis. At least she can only control about five maxes at a time."

"So, we're stuck?" Questioned the young man.

"Yeah, and I don't doubt that their cavalry is going to haul their asses back here soon." Sighed Atsushi as Ryuuji fired his pistol, trying to eliminate the origami made shikigamis. "We need something to get around this barrier, but from what I already experienced before, that kind of thing needs a few artillery cannons to be destroyed. Or to break that man's focus." He indicated the priest who could very well be confused with a statue.

Throwing a look at the weapon he had scavenged, Kamijou felt a smirk worm its way up to his face, as an idea crossed his thoughts. With haste, he whispered his plan to Atsushi, who, lacking anything better, accepted. The man beckoned Ryuuji to get closer and told him his part in the scheme.

When everything was ready, Touma approached the bubble, his newly acquired polearm squeezed against his chest, Atsushi at his side, his MP ready to fire. The young girl looked at the weapon, which was stained with his blood, tilting her head downward in a show of sorrow for a, presumed, dead comrade.

However, her eyes, inquisitive and surprised watched their every move, trying to discern their intention. She took five of her origamis, ready to use them at a moment's notice should any danger threaten her and her protector.

Breathing in, Touma took the naginata, spun it so the blade would be directed against the floor and with a swift movement buried it in the concrete below. The long, unnatural blade went through it without any resistance, if he had closed his eyes Kamijou would have believed that he had hit nothing.

Then he ran, dragging the blade, still in the ground, pulling it without any resistance whatsoever. Inside the bubble, the Miko had a small movement of horror and threw her origamis out of the bubble. Two were shredded by bullets before she could give them life, the third soon followed as the form of a giant raven began to appear. The fourth and fifth, the last ones, a tiger and a giant rattlesnake managed to take their full forms.

Coiling on itself the rattlesnake tensed its muscle before striking, the powerful muscles composing its body allowing him to reach Atsushi. He barely blocked the oncoming fangs with his rifle, the clip had run dry.

The weapon was thrown off his hands by the sheer strength of the giant snake. The reptile didn't relent, baring its fangs before launching itself toward the man. Atsushi managed to roll to the side, taking out his telescopic baton in the process.

Meanwhile, Kamijou had nearly finished circling the golden bubble with his naginata when the tiger pounced on him, its abnormal natural weapons out and ready to tear him apart. The young man barely avoided the spectral feline as it crashed where he had been a second ago.

Wielding the naginata, which still cut through concrete like it was butter he barely managed to avoid the wrathful claws, the brute force nearly knocking his weapon off his hands. However, as the king of the jungle coiled on his hind legs, launching itself at him, he managed to sidestep the attack, and with a swift, nearly failed movement managed to cut the origami in the tiger's form. As the terrible animal disappeared, he took a look at Atsushi who was, for now, barely managing to fend off the spectral scaled beast with his baton.

Knowing that the Miko would probably summon new beasts soon he decided to execute his plan before she could do so. Once again burrowing the naginata in concrete; where he had withdrawn it, he resumed cutting through the hard material.

It was over in a few seconds, having reached the place he had first begun to cut, one could realise he had cut a circle around the bubble. Now separated from the main rooftop, the disk where the two priests were fell below. The disk of concrete smashed in the apartment above before destroying its floor and falling in the apartment below.

The two priests, their concentration broken and on the verge of unconsciousness couldn't stop Ryuuji, who had bid his time in this room, when he destroyed the game of nurikabe, destroying the barrage of supernatural walls.

Now in a dire situation, the silent and stoic Shinto priest barely managed to summon a weak barrier as a rain of lead poured on them. The young Miko, hiding behind the shield, which was already beginning to crack under the pressure of the attack.

Taking out a small amulet, the priestess recited an incantation, invoking the goddess of the sun, Amaterasu. Her crescendo was short but powerful and as soon as the last blessed words left her holy self, a blinding light shone.

The two Tsuchimikados fled from the room, as fast as their bruised hobbling allowed them too. They managed to reach a window, and with her last reserves, the young Miko threw her most treasured Origami.

A giant eagle, spectral like the others, appeared, large enough to carry both of them on its back. Without any hesitation the young Miko and her guardian priest jumped on the back of the winged monstrosity and flew away, their mission failed.

Atsushi and Kamijou arrived in the house, contemplating the mess. The door of the apartment missed a lock, and the living room, a mess of concrete and furniture, was now illuminated by the stars. There would probably be some draughts afterwards.

"Let's go before the police get there." Said Atsushi, looking at the retreating form of their enemies with a disappointed look.

As the adrenaline pumping through Kamijou died down, he leaned against a wall, sliding until he sat on the ground. Despite the lack of adrenaline, he still felt his heartbeat faster and faster, as the realization of how his life had turned, settled.

He had seen someone get shot, then magicians, a goddam phoenix and now they were fleeing from the police. Not just for a small side-street scuffle, no, because of murder. What would his life look like now? Would the attacks on his person continue? Oh god, what about his cousin? Would they try to get him through her? Oh no... Oh no...

"Hey!"

He looked at Atsushi, who had shouted and shaken him to bring him back to reality.

"Look, I know it's hard to realize all of... that." He waved his hand around. "But we gotta go. Be a man and get on your feet." He pulled Kamijou back up.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Kamijou followed the duo as they climbed down the stairs in a hurry. After getting out and taking a few streets, they entered a car, which Ryuuji hijacked before driving away.

"Where are we going?" Asked Kamijou as he began hearing as police sirens.

Fortunately, they had already gotten out of the research zone the police had set up.

"The airport." Simply answered Atsushi.

"What?"

"We have to flee Japan. The Tsuchimikados can hit us anywhere in Japan, what we saw there is a small fraction of their strength, they didn't expect us to be there. But." He lighted a cigarette. "The good thing is that they can't get out of Japan, a curse coming from one of the emperors so they wouldn't sell their service els-"

"I don't care about that!" Interrupted Kamijou, slamming his fist on the roof of the car. "What the hell!? We're leaving Japan? What about my life! What about-"

"Well, kiddo, you flee or you die. Don't worry about your cousin, Otohime, she's enrolling in a school in the US, she'll be safe."

"How did you even...?"

"Hey, hey, she decided it by herself, she was going to tell you tonight." Revealed the man. "As for your life... I'm sorry, but if you want to keep it going, you'll have to follow us. To be honest, we're going to travel a lot so that'd be funny. Hey! I even got diplomatic passports and tickets!" He proved his claim by taking out said passports and first-class tickets for Korea.

"Where did you even get that?"

"I told you, the Japanese Government trusts us. We're the good guys after all." He explained, twirling the passport. "Here's yours." He threw him the official documents.

Indeed, the passport had his name, face and even fingerprint.

"What the- When did you plan this?"

"Since some time ago. We've been keeping an eye on you so you wouldn't get in trouble. We prepared everything to make sure you wouldn't die." Said Atsushi.

Kamijou frowned, there was still something he didn't understand, something that explained why he still had his guard on.

"Why? Why give yourself such a hard time? If you killed me you would save money and time." He stated, squinted eyes inquisitive.

Atsushi turned to look at him, taking a long, steely, hard look at him, a grimace on his face. Then, a small smile drew itself as he did the same with his handgun, pointing it at Kamijou. The young man knew there was nothing to do, he breathed in, breathed out, looking right into the barrel.

"If you do it, at least do it quickly."

A second passed, then another, a third, a fourth and finally a fifth before Atsushi burst out in a fit laughter.

"Didn't expect that of you kid, you certainly are interesting, and dumb." He added, shaking his head. "I told you, we're the good guys, we're here to save everyone we can. You're a human, you deserve to live. Would have been better if you lived in the light, rather than the darkness you're about to get into... but what is done is done." He sighed.

"What Atsushi said was right kid. Don't worry, and anyway, you might return if things settle down. We're now at war with the Tsuchimikados, they'll be crushed."

"I-I see..." Said Kamijou, looking by the windows.

"Also, Atsushi." Spoke Ryuuji, drawing his partner's attention. "Next time you pull a gun on him don't expect me to just watch..." He threatened. "...That's dangerous alright."

"Yes, sir." Said the threatened, rolling his eyes. "Oh, and Kamijou, we have some people packing your clothes back at your home. Do you want them to take anything?»

The idea that unknown persons were searching his room already bothered Touma, he wouldn't have them dig in even more private parts of his place, as such, he refused. As the car approached the airport, there was still something that bothered him.

"Who are the Tsuchimikados? Why is taking that other Kamijou Touma so important for them?"

Atsushi looked at Ryuuji, who shrugged, focusing on the road ahead.

"Well." Began the Foundation agent. "They're an old clan who practice Onmyoudo, you know about that right?" Touma nodded. "Good, well they're the foremost expert on that art. They also deal in a lot of other of occult stuff, only Japanese. They have huge historical and cultural ties to Buddhist warrior monks and Shinto priests. They used to be courtiers and were invited at the Imperial Court. Then, they were outlawed during the Meiji Era, when there was the Restoration. Ever since they're criminals and low-profile terrorists, we don't know what they really want. Once you're in the cult, you take the name Tsuchimikado and they trust you, we've been trying to get a mole in their sects for years but it never works."

"I see, what about you? You're family, or..?" Asked Kamijou, hesitating since their surname was both Iga.

"Oh, we're in the same clan, but we're not blood-related. Ever since the Taisho Era, the Iga clan has worked under the Japanese Government to protect everyone against the supernatural, namely the Tsuchimikados." He explained, between puffs of his cigarette. "After World War Two, we worked under the Foundation since the Allies didn't trust the Diet or the Emperor. Not a loss if I have to be honest. Anyway, we're almost at the airport, stick to us alright?"

"Alright." Answered Kamijou.

A few minutes later, after a hasty embarkation, they were on a plane, and soon in the sky. As Tokyo grew smaller and smaller until it didn't look bigger than the last point of a book's last page. No, it was the end of a chapter. Maybe the book started here for him.

-To: Director Kear.

-Package secured.

-En route to Korea.

-Over.

**A CERTAIN SCP**

"Do you know how much howling I just heard? More than I wanted."

The Administrator laughed as his official liaison with the Ethics Committee recounted the woes of today's Committee Report.

"I never heard them lose their shit as much as I did today, you really did a number." Growled his liaison.

The already pronounced scrunched brows of the liaison only further scowled as The Administrator laughed harder in front of this new piece of information. After a few second the mirth subsided, replaced by a more professional, if still amused attitude.

"Sorry to have put you through this, I still needed to gauge their mood before presenting myself." He apologized. "But, don't worry they can shout and cry as much as they want, they can't take more control over Zero. This was as much a test of their resolve as it was an operation to rescue civilians. If they really wanted to stop the whole operation, they would have deployed MTF Omega-1 'Law's Left Hand'. They did not, they're too weak, all bark and no bite. That advantages us." He guffawed.

"I see, as expected of you, sir." Complimented the attaché.

"Oh, don't suck up to me, you're better than that." Objected The Administrator, waving at the projection of his subordinate.

He leaned in his comfortable chair, made of the leather of an extinct species basking in the sentiment of his umpteenth political triumph. Now, they would know that this was useless to oppose him. He would give a few speeches and allow them to vote on the matter to save their own face, but he would have Zero back under control.

"Is that all?" He asked.

The liaison only answered by the negative, and with a deferential bow, knowing the usual procedure departed, his projection vanishing.

Before The Administrator could get back to its usual, more mundane work a notification drew his attention.

_Advice/Permission concerning a reclassification to Thaumiel Class and admission to MTF Alpha-9 'Last Hope'._

_-Site Advisor LeBlanc._

LeBlanc? If he was not mistaken, he was from Site-17. Interesting, a new Thaumiel. Alpha-9's success, not only the one caused by Zero, maybe had more effect than he thought. Intrigued, he decided to design look at the document instead of delegating it to one of his proxies. Thinking about it, it was probably one of them who had relayed this. Or Kear did.

As the words scrolled down his brows rose. SCP-953, mass murderer, anthropophagi, mythical creature, prideful sociopath wants to integrate a special unit? Under the order of the Foundation? That was... risky, but the pay-off, oh the pay-off. It would be marvellous.

953 was a born infiltrator, both in a physical way, able to bypass security and fit through tight space thanks to her polymorphic abilities but also in a societal way. She was, without a doubt, a stunning woman, who had no difficulties getting what she wanted from people. Even if she had to resort to extreme measures.

Neither had she any problem with bloodshed, he more than expected that it was one of the reasons she had volunteered. She was a beast, intelligent like a human, but still a blood-lusting anomaly. She was a tool to be wielded carefully, with an iron fist wrapped in a velvet glove. If he let her chain slip, she would probably escape or slaughter either her guards or targets she should keep alive. If her chain was too tight, she would finally refuse to cooperate or even rebel and it would be a lost investment.

Her guards also needed to be competent and able to resist her, both physically and mentally, not an easy task. Well, he had already a few candidates, so that could be settled. They should be able to handle and restrain her. He knew she was doing that to get a chance to escape, so he would lure her, always making it seem like she had a chance, later, if she continued to play the game.

He would repeat that cycle until she had lost her usefulness or until she got tired of being played around.

…

He would give his authorization. Since she was not under the jurisdiction of the Committee, he only had to make it go through Light and Bowe. The old general would accept just for the heck of it, and Light would accept because he would tell her to.

With this Alpha-9 would become more and more crucial concerning both the protection of the status quo but also his defence or offence against rival agencies.

He smirked. What an interesting turn of event.

He was about to finally get to work to his more administrative work when a second ping drew his attention. He let out a sigh and looked at the message with a dark eye. If people could let him work, he was The Administrator! He had tons of administrative forms to fill!

… Ah! So Kamijou, the one from this world had been attacked. They still had him. Good. Good. Kamijou NTV, NaTiVe, still greatly looked like Kamijou ETD, ExTra-Dimensional, and with the good angles and some digital changes they could very well change him into Kamijou ETD in photos. This would serve to bait and lead Special Group Aletheia, the dimension hoppers, into thinking they didn't have Touma in their clutches, shaping the carrot that they would never catch while also creating fake sightings, if make-up and other slight bodily changes were applied, to lure and confuse rival organisations.

Nearly all the cards were in his hand, now he needed to use them very carefully, as usual. Aletheia was one of the weakest links of his whole show, they could very well become a wildcard that would be too hard to deal with.

They were useful as a clandestine group. He had made sure to disseminate clues behind the scene where the Group had intervened that would lead to a non-existent third party. The GOC was burning resources looking for something that didn't exist while he had changed the Foundation archives to refer to Special Group Aletheia as an enemy to the Foundation should the GOC ever infiltrate their servers, which he hoped since he weakened the security of those containing this exact information. Three birds with one stone, having a very effective black ops team, weakening the GOC and others and making sure to look live the Foundation had information to force the Coalition to negotiations in view of an 'alliance' against Aletheia which would calm the tensions between them.

For now, all was going well, the cards were in his hand. But jokers and other wildcards lurked out there. Who knew what they could do?

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this. I hope you'll read the next chapter. The shipping vote will be held later, a few chapter before the end.
> 
> Sincerely
> 
> Orakle


End file.
